Stolen Inheritance
by Rehabilitated Sith
Summary: It began when a Prince asked a Slave for his name. Someone is after Arthur, and all that stands in their way is a slave from another kingdom, his name is Merlin :::COMPLETE:::. WHUMP!Merlin; Slave!Merlin- *Bromance/No Slash* Protective Arthur *Eventual BAMF!Merlin* EPIC!Length-
1. Prologue

_**In case you haven't figured it out...I don't own Merlin, but I do claim that this plot as original, as far as I am aware. This is the standard disclaimer, which will only be shared once.**_

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_**Prologue**_

Clothed in a vibrant blue, a man sat atop a white steed, back straight, shoulders square, his head crowned with a gold circlet. His gaze was riveted forward, not sparring a glance to the servants and subjects that walked beside and behind him. In his hand he kept a tight grip affixed to a braided rope, which hung slack down his mount, trailing slightly behind him. A sharp jerk of the rope causing it to go rigid as the tension was tightened. A soft grunt was the only answer as the rope again went slack, the message clearly having been received.

_At the end of the rope, a young man's shackled wrists gave a painful twinge at the abuse. His blue eyes lifted slightly, but he was careful not to meet the King's gaze. He felt the shackles rub painfully against his already raw wrists. He felt the tall-tale stickiness and knew he was bleeding again, luckily his black long sleeve shirt hid the stains that were surely mixing with previous ones The pallid skin around his eyes flinched uncomfortably, but no further protest escaped his lips. Discreetly, he released a small stream of air to tease his ebony colored bangs out of his crystal clear blue eyes without drawing attention to himself. The soft breeze was a short reprieve from the glaring sun overhead._

_Another sharp jerk broke his concentration, causing his feet to trip over one another, ending with him face down in the dirt, air exploding out of his body as dark spots pulsed in his vision. The rope became rigid as the King continued, dragging the boy against the dirt and rocks. The boy cried out as his body was scraped against stones and roots, unable to get his feet under him. The sounds of fabric straining were barely heard over the snorting of the king's horse; yet, still, no one came to the boy's aid._

_The boy's right knee banged against the terrain before he was able to scramble to his feet, looking all the more haggard than before. The seams of his shirt were ripped down one shoulder, and new holes allowed a slight breeze against his bleeding knees. More blood dripped from his wrists to mingle in the dirt. His prominent cheekbones were caked in earthy powder, and one side swelled showing the promise of a fast forming bruise. His lip was split with a line of red running down the side of his mouth._

_Once the king felt the rope slacken, he pulled his mount to a stop, his head barely turning to acknowledge the boy. The procession around him halted at once, well practiced in the King's idiosyncrasies._

"_Something to say, have you, slave?"_

_The King's reedy voice taunted the boy, who knew full well what would happen should he speak back to his Master; his body was proof of that. A muscle twitched in the slave's cheek, but he made move to answer. He stared resolutely at the ground. An abrupt pull left him stumbling down on one knee beside the King's mount. The next instant the boy was again meeting the dirt floor, the imprint of a boot on his cheek._

"_What say you now, boy?!"_

_The boy's body swayed drunkenly, "S'rry."_

"_...Sorry?" The King whispered back, his voice dangerously low. Anger flashed in his eyes at the continued impertinence of the boy before him. Another tug re-introduced the boy's face to the dirt._

"_I...apologi...ze...milord," the slave wheezed._

_The King swung his attention back around and brought his horse to a trot, seeking to make up for the loss of time. He felt the tension for several moments before the boy was able to regain his footing._

_A dull procession of servants, knights, and their king trudged their way out of the vibrantly colored forest, alive with birdsong. They followed the well-worn path to the gates of the great white city known as Camelot. Servants, arrayed in blue-grays, held aloft banners bearing the crest of Ulbein: A bright blue banner, trimmed in silver with an embroidered bird of prey, soaring above a crescent moon._

_Sweat poured down the men and women of the procession, save for the king, who was protected by a covering held in place by a male servant. The chained boy shuffled forward to create enough slack to use his bound hands to wipe his face with his black neckerchief. His chest heaved as his dark clothing absorbed the rays of the sun, cooking him from the inside. Blearily, the slave raised his eyes to look off into the distance. His blue eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief, an exclamation burst forth drawing the attention of others. There, flickering in the haze of distance, were the white towers and walls of Camelot._

_"Ugh-"_

_The boy jerked forward as the King kicked his steed into motion at a brisk pace. The boy yelped each time he stumbled over a rock, root, or his own feet. He momentarily became distracted as a tingling sensation zipped from the bottom of his feet up his slender legs and core, causing the hairs of his arms to prickle with a not unfamiliar energy. It seemed as though it filled every portion of his body, all the way to the ends of his mussed hair. Breathing in deeply, the boy only halfway closed his eyes, mindful of the abruptness of his path. The feeling was similar to how he imagined a hug or a touch of comfort from a friend or relative might have felt: warm, and safe. The throbbing wounds reminded him otherwise. He was not safe, least of all in Camelot. __Yet if he really concentrated on the surrounding, he could almost swear he heard a word whispering on the wind, a familiar word._

_The word was _**Merlin.**

_As if triggered by magic, deep rumbling under his foot nearly caused him to stumble. The ground itself seemed to tremble beneath him, and he fought to keep his footing. Crying out, his knees collided with the ground sending sparks of pain down his legs. There was just barely enough slack on the lead rope to allow him to brace himself up with one hand. Fear prickled at his neck. _'This has to be the worst sort of welcome, ever.'_ Regaining his footing, he glanced around him and noticed that no one else seemed to have a problem with staying up, in fact, none of them seemed to have notice the earth shaking. Eyes wide with fear, the slave looked up at Camelot, it's flags waving gently in the breeze, welcoming all. To the slave, the welcoming banners seemed to shift and, instead of them beckoning, they were warding him off._

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_**Thank you for reading, and please let me know what you think, especially how I might improve.**_

**H. D. S.**

**7/24/2012**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

'_One more step...one more step...one more'._

The raven haired boy concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, to ensure no more missteps and as a result being dragged behind the horse. The more steps he took the louder the murmur of voices became. He continued his trudging along until he walked into the rump of the King's horse, who retaliated by flicking it's tail into the boy's face. Jerking back in surprise, he yelped as the slack from his restraints was used to also whip him across his prominent cheekbones.

Glancing up through the fringe of his bangs, he gasped. He had to bring his hands up to shield his eyes from the glare created by the sun reflecting off of the white stones of the castle of Camelot. Shifting his gaze, he looked over the surrounding knights heads and drunk in the sights and sounds of the bustling city. Women were dressed in vivid colors of red, blue, green and creams; men lead carts full of wares, towards the market square. The normalcy of their daily lives caused the corners of the boy's mouth to lift ever so slightly. One girl seemed to stand out from the others, her skin was the color of freshly baked bread, her hair the color of rich earth formed in a spiraling mass, slightly pulled away from her face. She had a beauty mark on her face and a slight smile on her lips, as if thinking of a private joke. His observation was cut short as the clopping of the horse shoes warned him of their advancing just in time that he didn't get jerked along by the Master. The procession wound their way through the city to the center point where another group waited on the castle steps. Careful to stop at the appropriate time, the boy discreetly glanced about him, ignoring the words spoken by the man on the steps wearing a crown, even as he came down to meet the King on the horse; who had dismounted already. They clasped forearms familiarly much to the surprise of the slave boy.

"Come, we have prepared a feast in your honor. Your horses will be attended to in the stables, your knights will be housed in the barracks and your servants shown to the servants' quarters."

Both kings headed up the steps until the tug on the rope brought the visiting King up short. With a snarl he gave a mighty yank, violently bringing the slave out of his musing; he crashed forward onto the stone steps. Wincing, he hurried to his feet, not wanting to draw more attention to himself.

"My Lord, perhaps Gaius should have a look at that one. He seems not completely there."

A young woman's voice spoke up for the first time, catching the slave's attention. The slave couldn't help the hope that filled his eyes in the briefest moment he met the young woman's eyes.

"Morgana, my ward, is right, Severus, Gaius is the Court Physician, he can look after the boy."

Glaring hatefully at the slave boy, he grudgingly relinquished his hold on the restraints to give them to one of his own servant's hands, who in turned handed it off to another servant from King Uther's household, this one a girl. The slave kept his eyes on the ground in an effort to avoid the wrath of his master. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the rope change hands, and let out a small sigh of relief. He caught another movement as that Ulbein servant stepped up within a few steps behind King Severus, his head kept respectfully down. The slave ignored the haughty grin of the servant directed at him, preferring to not drawn any further attention to himself than necessary.

"Please, come this way."

The slave gave a start at the girl's voice. He took a few steps in her direction, following her with his head bowed in submission. The boy hunched his shoulders against the glare on his back. As he passed by the servant at his King's back, he winced as his shoulder made contact against his. Faintly, he heard a snort of derision in his direction, the slave boy made no move against him, seemingly trying to make himself an even smaller target.

"Come Severus, the hall is this way. Your servant will be watched and shall not escaped."

Their voices trailed off in the distance as each party moved in different directions. They had only made it a few steps inside the hall when another girl's voice called out, halting their progress.

"Sophia!"

No longer feeling the harden gaze of his master on his back, the boy finally dared to look up. Hurrying towards them was the girl with the beauty mark from before, in her arms was a heavy-looking basket laden with linens.

"Gwen?"

"Oh, thank heavens I found you. Maryanna, in the kitchens, has need of your help. Valoria has taken ill and they are short handed. You are to go at once, else they not be ready for the feast."

Sophia glanced at the boy who she was supposed to deliver to the court physician.

"But I am to take the boy to Gaius."

"No matter, I will take him, please just hurry."

Hesitating for a moment, Sophia placed the rope over the basket and scurried off, with her hem held aloft so that she was make with haste to the kitchens. Gwen glanced at the boy, noticing for the first time his shackled hands and the rope leading from them to the end piece. With an effort, Gwen shifted her hold in order to reach for the rope. Unbalanced, the load tipped and with it her body, a cry of surprise burst from the girl's mouth.

"Woah-! Careful there."

One arm braced her up while the other managed to grasped one side of the basket, just barely preventing it from toppling completely over. In an instant Gwen pulled back, gaining her footing again. Her eyes searched his, before they widened as they gazed at his hands, the shackle dangling off the other.

"Wha-? Your hands...how...?"

Confused, the boy looked down to see what she was looking at, his face drained of what little color he had.

"Ah...um...If you apply pressure at a certain spot, the hinge will give way...yeah."

In an effort to reassure the wary girl, he adjusted his grip on the basket to where he reapplied the other shackle, barely able to hold the basket on the forearms of his bound hands.

"Oh, let me take that back..."

"No, no. I've got this."

"Are, are you sure? I mean, can you carry it?"

"Of course, why?"

"Well, it's just that, one stiff wind looks like it could blow you over."

The boy blinked, his brow furrowed at the implication. Seeing his reaction, the girl was quick to correct her words.

"I-I mean, it is rather heavy, and your hands are bound, and well it IS heavy."

"Exactly, and as such, a lady should not be made to be burdened with such a heavy weight."

"But-"

"And seeing as it is heavy, and getting heavier by the minute, I might add, perhaps it would be wise to make our way to the physician...?"

At his prompting the girl started leading the way, following a dizzying amounts of twist and turns they came to a descending stairwell. Gwen easily descended, holding the hem of her dress up so that she didn't trip on it. Angling his head over and around the linens, the boy carefully chose his steps, being mindful of the steepness of the descent and the steps. Three quarters of the way down, the boy's foot caught on the dangling rope; Gwen having not taken possession of it after dropping it the first time. The tension pitched him forward, with a yelp followed by grunts, his body impact the stairs until he landed with an explosion of air. His vision wavered, creating moving shadows in the hallway. His body screamed in pain, mixing his vocal scream and Gwen's audibly higher pitched scream.

"HELP! Oh, someone help!"

The vibrations of many footfalls thundered in the boy's ears; the effort of lifting his eyelids that had clamped close against the pain, too much. He was instead content to just sink into oblivion.._.'The only freedom I have, is in death'._

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A/N End: Things are just starting to pick up, and with it longer chapters and more plot foreshadowing.** I am a bit long winded in the sense, that I like to build and craft these to a point where I hope I don't loose your interest before the real fun begins.**

H.D.S


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Sleep...flgm...hmm..konc...con.. ...eat...bru..ing...r...st...here..."

Disjointed voices washed over the boy like a babbling brook. Furrowing his brow in concentration, he could distinguish between at least three voices: an elderly man with a gravely timbre, his Master's reedy tones and...he searched his mind to identify the last one. Hurdling back, he vaguely recalled that last voice, _King Uther._

His eyes snapped open, darting back and forth frantically. He spotted his Master near the door conversing with Uther Pendragon. Gritting his teeth, he tried to force his body to move, to get to his knees as was required by his Master. A cry of pain escaped as he rolled off the cot and tumbled to the floor causing all conversation to cease and all eyes on him. Flushing, he willed his limbs to move but they were rebellious and stubborn.

"S..ir..e..I-I..." his croaking voice failed him as his vision tunneled in. The light touch of an unfamiliar hand broke through the haze of pain, stopping any further supplication.

"Sire, I'm afraid the boy was severely injured in his fall. He will be unable to tend to his duties for several days, at least."

"I shall have one of my servants at your disposal; in the meantime, Gaius will have the boy returned to you before our duties are completed," Uther placated his visiting friend.

"Very well, but I would ask that you keep him in his chains while he is in your custody. It reminds him of his place, and warns others as to the inequality of his station, I do not want your servants treating him as an equal," King Severus requested.

"And if I should need to remove the chains in order to treat his wounds, Sire?" Gaius asked.

The visiting King wrinkled his nose in distaste before reaching around his neck to removed a key tethered to a piece of leather and allowed the physician to take it and place it around his own neck. His robe slipped slightly to reveal another thin cord of leather with a carved stone pendant around his neck.

"Do NOT allow this within reach of the slave." Lips pressed in a thin line, King Severus nodded his dismissal before following Uther out of the physician's quarters. Breathing a sigh of relief, the boy briefly closed his eyes until he felt a second pair of hands help him get him back on the cot. His eyes drifted to meet the concerned brown eyes of Gwen, the girl he had been following before he fell. A tinge of pink stained his high cheekbones as he felt her soft hands help to right him on the bed. He winced as pain sparked as he drew in a long breath.

"A rather nasty fall you took, I'm afraid," the gravely voice of the old physician murmured.

"Just..a bit...clumsy," the boy wheezed out.

"You are not clumsy! If they hadn't had you bound like a dog, you wouldn't have fallen! If you hadn't been carrying my load...you wouldn't have fallen!" Gwen bit her lip at her outburst, but allowed her eyes to drift to his bandaged wrists.

"W-why have they? Bound you, I mean."

"Gwen-" the old man admonished.

It was her turn to blush.

With a quirk of his lips, the slave raised his eyebrows and managed to wave his hand over his body, flexing one arm.

"It's the only way to be able to contain all this."

A peal of laughter was what he got in response.

"Oh, d-don't believe me do you? You, too, have been fooled by my innocent appearance. Well, should I ever break free of my chains you might wish you had heeded my warning. I have slain many a man with these muscles, and captured the hearts of many a woman. None can resist this. It's a blessing... and a curse." _What are you doing? Shut up!__  
_

Gwen's laughter continued to ring throughout his speech and was joined by the deeper tones of the wizened older man.

"Alas, don't say I didn't warn ye. Protect your heart, or some might steal it."

He was able to chuckle lightly before his ribs reminded him of what a bad idea that is.

The girl straightened herself, as she gained control, "I'm not sure I can believe that there's so much...contained in there."

"Why, where is it you doubt me?"

Gwen bit her lip before motioning.

"You just gestured to _all of me_," the boy exclaimed in a pitiful voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend!"

The boy waved her off, a smile still on his lips, "It's so overt that it's covert."

Gwen searched for something to say, still feeling as though she might have offended him.

"So, do you like black?"

"Uh, what-?"

"Your clothes, they're black; is that your favorite color? It's just that in Camelot you don't really see very many in all black."

"Oh," he cleared his throat, "No my Master gave me these. To remind me."

"Remind you-?"

Gaius stepped forward, clearing his throat, "Thank you Gwen, but I'll need to do a more thorough examination in order to discern the extent of his injuries."

"Of course Gaius, I shall return later with a meal for you two."

"Gwen? Ah, um, thank you, for... you know."

She nodded her understanding; she left closing the door behind her. The room was silent in the wake of her exit, and the boy turned his head straight, keeping his eyes to the ceiling. Gaius worked silently; he moved limbs and pressed lightly on tender portions. First he removed the neckerchief around the boy's neck, and paused in surprise. Around his neck was fastened a silver circlet of metal with markings of the Old Religion. He frowned as he made to peer closer. A sharp intake from the boy reminded him of the more serious injuries, as his neck seemed to be unscathed from his trip down the stairs. He used the borrowed key to remove the chains so that he might have more access to the boy's wounds. Removing the boy's tunic, he made no comment about the few scars adorning his body, from a lashing; instead he focused on the recent markings. He pulled out a thin blanket and covered the boy's hips for privacy as he checked his legs for any serious injury. With a murmur to himself, he moved to his table and began crushing and mixing herbs for a poultice.

"How long have you worked for the King?"

Gaius looked up, meeting blue eyes brimming with genuine curiosity. The boy had turned his head in order to watch the physician going about his duties; he winced at the effort but didn't make a move to return to his original position.

"Well before you were born."

"Was your Father a healer as well?"

The old physician paused in his work; he raised an eyebrow in thought before bending back over his grinding stone.

"How long have you worked for King Severus?"

The boy blinked at the abrupt change, "Uh, pretty much as far back as I can remember. I don't remember... much before."

"Hold old were you?"

"I think I was just passing my seventh harvest when I was... put into his service, and before that I served under another."

"Another?"

The boy nodded heavily, his eyes dropped tiredly.

"To a man... a bad... man."

Gaius nodded absentmindedly, his hands working without conscious thought. Poultice in hand, he dabbed at a wound on the boy's thin chest. He worked his way down the body, cleaning, mending and bandaging. Hours later, Gaius surveyed his work. The candle light flickered glittering on the boy's silver collar. Now that the boy's injurious had been attended to Gaius decided he could indulge his curiosity. Grasping a quill and parchment, he quickly transcribed the images he was able to see without waking his sleeping patient.

Taking down several of his tomes he got to work translating the symbols of the Old Religion. About an hour later he sat back in his chair, pondering why his patient would be wearing the enchanted necklace. His musings were brought up short by the change in the boy's breathing. Quickly, he hid the tomes and returned to observe the boy. The boy started gasping for air, desperately, as if he were unable to draw breath Gaius laid the back of his hand against the boy's forehead, testing his temperature. The boy felt a little warm; so Gaius felt his neck next. Wrinkling his brow, Gaius shifted his hand lower and cried out in shock, _The silver choker was hot!_

Grabbing a long strip of cloth, he soaked it in water, carrying it dripping over to the boy; he carefully wrapped it around his neck beneath the metal. Wincing, Gaius drew his hands back, blowing on them. The cold cloth provided enough relief that the lines on the boy's face eased most of the smooth.

With a sigh, Gaius gathered his basic kit of medicine and made final preparations for when Gwen came back. A light knocked had his attention turned back to his doorway where Gwen let herself in, arms full of a tray filled with plates of food.

"Oh, Gaius, I have your meals."

"Ah, thank you Gwen. I'm afraid I must go out and tend to my other patients. I'll eat when I return. Can you watch the boy? I shan't be gone long."

"What should I do if he wakes?"

"Try to get him to eat and drink something."

With that, the physician hurried out so as to complete his rounds as soon as possible. As time passed uneventfully, Gwen amused herself by, constantly changing the damp cloth on the boy's forehead. Finally, the heat abated and she resumed her vigil in silence. Her mind wandered back to her last meeting with him; her musings ranged from his bright smiles to the shackles he wore. She shuddered at the thought of anyone having to wear them. Absentmindedly she used her fingers to brush his bangs away from his closed eyes. _He's so young. A slave? How could anyone do that to another person?!_ The boy turned his face towards the touch, and she had to stifle a cry of surprise. Freezing, she worried that she had woken him, but he made no other move. Exhaling quietly, she angled her head for a better look. Smiling softly, she sat back and let her mind drift to an earlier time when she had kept another vigil, this one over her brother, Elyan, who had also been injured. Shaking her head fondly, she waited for Gaius to return.

Gaius returned sometime later, he nodded at her report of the night not surprised that the boy hadn't awakened. Gwen took her leave and Gaius checked the dressings before eating the food Gwen provided, making sure to save a portion of the cheese, fruit and bread for the boy to eat later. Then he retired for the night.

The next several days passed in the same mundane manner. The boy would wake for short amounts of time, enough so that he was able to drink and eat a portion before falling back asleep.

The fourth day, the boy awoke before dawn, and seeing the state of his undress, dressed himself first in his black trousers. He attempted to put his shirt but found that with his hands bound together the task was quite impossible, knowing he would be punished if he were to remove the cuffs, he left them on. Huffing in exasperation, he was content to roam the room as far as the lead rope would allow. _The King didn't have such a collection of books, probably because he is barely able to read._ He snorted in derision and then froze. His shoulders hunched he quickly surveyed the room, not seeing the older man he relaxed a little. He scrutinized the book covers and made faces at the assortment of jars with strange things floating in them. _Ugh, that one looks like a shriveled old_ _man's head. What is that?! Oh, gross, I think I'm going to be sick…..oh, wait, that IS interesting. _

"Some of those helped to save your life."

Spinning wildly, the boy had to reach out to steady himself against the wall. He warily watched the old man come forward, his shoulders hunched in preparation of a tongue lashing for taking the liberty of roaming the physician's quarters without permission.

"You must be freezing. Why haven't you dressed?"

Mutely, the boy raised his arms, displaying the shackles.

"Ah, yes, there is that I suppose. Well, come on then."

Gaius beckoned the boy over to him, one hand slipping down to retrieve the key. Once free, the boy immediately slipped his shirt on, wincing as his skin pulled at the healing wounds. With an apologetic furrow of the brow, Gaius replaced the chains once the boy was fully clothed again, but left the lead rope off. Swallowing against the pain, the slave regarded the old man hesitantly. He stood awkwardly off to the side, and jumped as the door opened to admit a male servant dressed in the blue of Ulbein.

"King Severus demands the slave to come to his chambers tomorrow morning."

The aforementioned boy flinched at the summons.

Gaius was quick to protest, "He's not well enough for such strenuous work-"

"I shall make myself available to the King," the patient interrupted Gaius' complaint, swallowing, the boy lowered his eyes and gave a shallow bow of acknowledgement to the servant while fighting back a wince.

With a sneer, the servant spun on his heel without a word, his chin tilted upward and exited. Once the door clicked shut, the slave grasped for the edge of the table, and allowed himself to sink to his knees; a light sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. He tracked the movements of the physician who had turned his attention back to his patient. Walking over to the boy, he gently helped him sit on the edge of the cot before busying himself with mixing more poultices.

"Your muscles will seize up if you do not exercise them."

Chewing on his bottom lip, the boy carefully went through some stretches, wincing slightly. Releasing a slow breath, the slave gently rolled his limbs in small circular motions. Getting to his feet, he arched his back his hands stretched to the ceiling while on the tips of his tips, like a cat. Settling back on the heels, a yawn caught him by surprise.

"Ah, that felt g-o-o-o-d," blinking heavily, he shook his head to try and clear it of the cobwebs; he forgot to wipe his face blank of the lazy smile that lit his face.

Gaius looked up at his words and his own smile froze on his face at seeing the boy with such an open expression. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes tried to relay something to his brain that his mind wasn't registering; something in the way of familiarity. It tugged at the back of his mind but he couldn't quite figure out why that smile struck such a cord with him.

Gaius was still furiously searching his mind for an answer as the boy did a short walk around the room, now that he wasn't bound to the lead rope, before snagging some food off of the table and settling back on the cot.

"Have we met before?"

Startled the boy looked up quickly, his blue eyes intense as he carefully studied the older man. Gaius waited with baited breath. Blue eyes darkened in thought, slightly unfocused. Concerned, Gaius leaned, waiting; after another few moments of silence he snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face. The boy started violently as he blinked rapidly, trying to reorient himself.

"Um, no...no I don't believe...so," even as he said it, he chewed his bottom lip pensively.

Nodding to himself, Gaius instructed the boy to stay as went to do his rounds, regretfully having to restrain the boy while he was gone. Sleeping on and off, the boy fingered his neckerchief as he wondered what tomorrow would bring. Every so often he got up and made sure to stretch his limbs slowly, and stared out the small window on the far sidewall. Sunshine glittered through several bottles that lined the window, casting colored light on the floor and anything else within reach. The boy amused himself by using his bound hands to shape cast shadows into various animals both natural and of magic. _One can only do so many things by oneself before they go crazy. _His eyes again caught the attention of a particular book, _Herbs._ He squinted and tried to make out the other words on the title, but he couldn't. With measured movements, he approached the closest bookshelf and reached as far as he could. _Ugh, too far. _Frowning, he tried from another position, changing angles until he could get as close as possible. Pulling on the lead rope he gained another inch, and brought up a leg while leaning in the opposite direction to balance himself. Halfway sticking out his tongue in concentration, he stretched his leg and foot as far as he could while ignoring the sparks of pain it sent. _Come on….come on…..COME! _

His toe caught on the edge of a book that was slightly pulled from the shelf already. Wiggling back and forth he was able to get it to come out even more. _I got it! _Two books fell to the floor, the one he had been reaching for, and another than had been resting horizontally on top and slightly farther in hidden within the shadows. The sudden change in position caused the boy to fall and he landed half on the new book. Grimacing he pulled it from beneath his and stared at it. _Magical Beasts. _With wide eyes, he quickly glanced at the door and back to the book. Opening the book on his lap, he used his bound hands to flip through the pages; stopping to read when something caught his eye. _Dragons were once in abundance, they inhabited the mountainous regions as their nesting grounds and had a large range for hunting….Wow, I wonder what it would be like to meet one? _He read further and was disappointed to see it noted that the area of Camelot had been rid of the magnificent creatures at Uther's command_. _Feeling disappointed, he closed the book and looked for a place to put it. Unable to reach it's original place, he settled for sliding it under a table and out of prying eyes.

The gay sounds of a songbird brought a small smile to the boy's face. He listened intently for a little bit and then when there was a break in the music, he pursed his lips and whistled a response to the bird. When he finished, he listened intently for a reply. It was several disheartening moments later until the bird seemed to respond to his response. Grinning, he tried several variations in pitch and rhythm. A small dark shadow passed by the window, circling around several more times. Smiling the boy listened and replied to the bird. A second shadow whirled around the first, and the two birds chattered merrily to each other, the boy forgotten. The boy waited for a break so that he might also try, but the birds soon moved on and again the boy was left alone with only his thoughts for company.

Sitting on the cot, the boy stretched his limbs every so often. _Boooooooooored. _He could hear servants chatting with one another in the hallways when they came close. He could hear the sounds of training, the sounds of footsteps, the sounds of freedom, and yet most loudly of all he could hear the sound of silence within the confines of his makeshift prison: the sound of loneliness.

A new sound broke through the monotony, the sound of his gurgling stomach. With a sigh he pressed his hands to his stomach in hopes that it might quell the rumblings. It didn't.

Knocking echoed through the chambers and the boy leapt to his feet, eager for something to break the stillness. Gwen stepped through with a small plate and meager portions, a smile on her face as she saw the boy on his feet and coherent.

"I thought you might be hungry."

"I'm afraid you're too late. I have already passed from this world."

"Oh, and how is that?"

"Because I am in the presence of an Angel."

Gwen raised an eyebrow at his theatrics, "the quiet getting to you?"

"Ugh, I am used to the quiet, but what I can't stand are the sounds outside the silence. Knowing that there are others just out of my reach and I am unable to mingle with them."

She set down the plate of food within his reach and watched as he slowly took the bread and nibbled on it. She glanced around at the chambers she didn't frequent and nodded to herself.

"You could always talk to the jars."

She turned back to catch a glance of the boy snatching food off the plate and stuffing it in his face as if she might take it from him at any moment. When he saw her turned back, he again used slow motions as if he hadn't just been shoving down the food with reckless abandon. Shadows darkened her already deep brown eyes, she regarded him with a new understanding.

"Please stop it."

"What-?" She stuttered.

"I can't stand your pity. This is how it is. I am used to it."

She swallowed, and made an effort to rearrange her features to a more pleasant one. "So, how are you liking Camelot?"

He swallowed a large chunk and looked around, "well you seem to have skilled builders. This is a very solid room, and those steps were cut to perfection if my bruises are to be believed."

Gwen flushed in embarrassment at her thoughtless question, "I-I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Actually it was a little refreshing, you forgot for a moment, right? I'm glad."

A soft smile tinged his lips, and he looked down at his hands, now clenching in agitation. _I wish I could._

With his plate cleaned of it's food, Gwen picked it up, frowning apologetically, "I must see to my mistress Morgana, but I will try to visit more often."

"Thank you, but I'll be put back to work tomorrow so I'm sure we'll see each other at some point."

"So soon-?"

"I'm a quick healer," he smiled. _I have to be._

With a small wave, Gwen retreated and he was again left to his own thoughts.

The sun receding by demand of night and finally Gaius returned, food in hand.

"After you finish up, it's best to rest early, as it seems tomorrow will be a busy one."

The boy quickly ate his food before cleaning the plate as best he could, his head starting to bob as a full stomach took the energy away from his limbs to digest his meal. Mumbling sleepily, the boy barely made it to the cot before he collapsed on it awkwardly. That night Gaius didn't fall asleep for quite a while, his mind still whirling furiously. The night remained quiet in the castle, except for one; a hoarse rumbling of the same word he heard upon approaching Camelot haunted that person.

_Merlin..._

The slave mumbled something unintelligent, turning over on the cot. "No….Lea..ve…e…alone…" Sweat trickled down his creased forehead. _Merlin…MERlin…MERLIN!_

The boy sat up with a gasp on his lips, his hands clasped desperately over his ears.

"Stop… please, just leave me alone!"

A deep voice thundered in his head, commanding his attention, "MER-LIN!"

"Why?" The boy whimpered, his eyes searched frantically for the source of the voice, only to see everything as it was last night. He could hear Gaius snoring in the corner, and while his snoring was loud it wasn't at the same decimal level as the one he was hearing. When the last remnant of the voice echoed away, the boy continued to stare at Gaius wondering how the old man could sleep through the cacophony. Then the answer slapped him in the face. _It's in my head. I've finally lost it. I'm starting to hear voices. Great, why can't I just be normal?! _

A calm thought broke through his frantic musings. _Telepathy._ _Why did I think of that? The book! I read something in there about a magical creature that can communicate through thought! What was it? Think….think….Griffins…Manicores…Fomorrah…. Wyvern….Dragon….DRAGON! That's it! Wait..I thought all the dragons were gone, Uther had them slaughtered….could it be something else? I'm sure there must other creatures that can do it. _As he thought about it, he couldn't shake the thought of a dragon being in Camelot.

_There's A Dragon In Camelot!_

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

A/N: Thanks for all the encouragement; I am super excited for this chapter because I was able to dig a little more into their personalities. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. Also, keep your eyes out for Movie/TV Show references, I want to see if any of you can spot them; Brownie points if you find them.

Also major shout out to my new beta, an invaluable helper: Thank you, fairy goatmother, without you I shudder to think of how it might have turned out.

Hope you enjoyed the little bits and pieces in there. Please let me know what you think.

H.D.S 8/1/12


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: ah, the fated meeting... so _pleasant. _

Chapter 3

Light shone through the windows of Gaius' chambers with painful precision; the light hit the sleeping face of the physician's only in-house patient. Groaning, the boy cracked open one eye only to slam it back down as his vision was invaded by the blinding brilliance of the sun. He flopped on his side in an effort to avoid the invader. Birds laughter trilled as they flew past the open window, further waking the boy up. Sick realization had him sitting up as if he had a sword at his back._ It's morning!_

Frantically the boy looked around for his boots and socks. Spying them near the door, he rushed over and jammed the socks and shoes on his feet. Using his hands to make sure he was presentable he moved to open the door. He stopped, staring in horror at his wrists, which were wrapped in bandages and free from the shackles. _Where are the shackles? Where is Gaius? I am going to be late. _He spun around desperately searching for the rope. Spying them across the room, he stretched forth his hand, at once they leaped into his hands. He winced, reaching up to touch the metal chocker, which had heated for a brief moment. He risked one more flash of gold, and clicked the shackles in place on his wrists. Panting, he steadied himself with both hands on the door.

Closing his eyes, the boy slowed his breath till he no longer felt dizzy. Opening the door, the boy peered out at the corridor. Pausing, he closed his eyes and evened out his breathing; he tilted his head as if straining to hear something in the distance. Gold burned beneath his eyelids as he opened his eyes and set off with an assured step. He was careful to keep the extra rope in his hands as he traversed the castle to his Master's quarters. The hallways were bustling with servants, guards and knights, all just as intent on their destination as he was. With hunched shoulders, the boy made sure to keep his eyes downward, enough so not to meet any passerby's eyes but up enough to be able to see where he was going. Errant elbows and shoulders jostled his tender wounds and he gritted his teeth against the pain, and kept his eyes downcast.

The slave boy came to a forked hallway where he paused, titling his head agin as if listening to the unspoken voice. Turning a blind corner he narrowly avoided slamming into someone, as he pivoted on his foot slipping past him only to crash into another person. The sound of metal reverberated in the previously silent hallway. _That's going to hurt._

"_Must_ you always be so clumsy?"

Scrambling to untangle his limbs from his unfortunate victim, the boy grunted as flailing limbs bumped his wounds. _Yup, definitely hurts._

"Come on, then, you clumsy oaf."

Getting to his knees, the slave managed to gather a few pieces for the scrambling servant. "It would be quicker if you helped him instead of yelling at him like a _prat._" The slave had it said it quietly, but as all servants of Camelot know, the hallways carry sounds extremely well, echoing to others' ears. A loud clatter echoed as the servant boy dropped the helmet, he had previously picked up, his eyes were wide as he looked fearfully towards the master. _Did I say that out loud?_

"_What_ did you just say?"

The voice was louder, as the other person approached the still kneeling slave. Both slave and servant stood one with his head raised the other with their eyes averted. _I did say that out loud. Idiot. Don't react...don't react...say nothing..._

"Give him a hand and it will go faster," the slave spoke slowly, as if talking to a child. _Insert foot into mouth._

"It is _his_ job."

The slave scoffed at his logic, "so, because it is his job, you would rather stand around and wait for him than help him and get to where you are going faster-?" He let it hang there, an implied '_stupid'_ left unsaid. The servant's head bounced back and forth, as he looked between the two arguing. The slave took a good look at the master of the servant and noted the crossed arms over a toned chest, his blonde hair glowing faintly in the light, casting a faint glow above the crown of his head; the derisive set of eyebrows, the challenge in his eyes and quirk of his lips. _What am I doing?! If the King should hear about this, I could be punished...severely. Arguing with a noble! I must have hit my head harder than I thought on those stairs. Idiot! Why are am I still staring at him?! Must-break-eye-contact._

"Sire, I'm ready."

They broke eye contact as the young servant boy broke their staring contest. _Say something..._ "Ha, I win," the blonde haired boy, who was about the same age as the slave, raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he turned and continued his path. The servant boy smiled shyly as he trotted past, his arms ladened with armor. The slave stared after him, sticking out his tongue in a fit of childishness. _What is wrong with me? First I am bantering with Gwen, now I am back talking to a noble._

A flash of fire flared around his neck and the boy yelped in pain, _he knows!_ Swallowing painfully, he broke into a run as he caught a glance of the position of the sun threw a window. _Stupid prat, now I am late! _Ignoring the growing shadows of the corridors, the slave raced against them_. _After a few twists and flight of stairs he skidded to a halt before the door to his master's temporary quarters.

He knocked with both hands as it would permit, and waited to be admitted. Servants passed by him, as he stood standing. When the same guard passed by him for his second round, the boy shifted to knock for a second time when he heard his master's voice bid him inside. Keeping his head bowed, he pushed the door open and closed it after him.

A servant passing in the hallway jumped in alarm as she heard a loud thump against the chamber door. Eying it warily, she scurried past, resolving to take another route on her way back.

The slave boy grunted as his back and head slammed against the door; the metal rungs dug painfully into his back. He choked against the tightening of his shirt's neckline twisted in the fist of his Master. The red faced man yelled, spittle splattering on the boy's prominent cheeks.

"How _dare_ you make me wait, slave," with his freehand, he viciously backhanded the boy causing his face to whip to the side, ripping a gash along his cheekbone.

"I-I-I am sorry, milord!"

"If you _ever show such impertinence, _I will have you flogged within an inch of your miserable existence!"

With one last slam against the wood, he released the boy to slide down gasping for breath. Coughing hoarsely, he rose to his feet, shakily and stood at attention, his eyes averted and head bowed.

"As useless as you are to me, I have found a use for you for the duration of my stay. Prince Arthur's manservant has deserted his post and he is without one; as such, I have volunteered your...services until he can find a replacement."

The slave gaped at his master, before coming to himself and again averted his eyes.

"As such, you will report to me each morning before attending to the Prince and I want a full accounting of your day's activities. You will be reflecting Ulbein and I will not have you slacking off. If you should fail in your duties the Prince will have full authority to punish you as _I_ would."

The King paced to the provided for table, before turning and approaching the slave once more. His foul breath washed over the boy as he leaned in close, "and if you so much as try to escape or shirk your duties, remember this: Camelot has banned the use of magic, punishable by death. Yours would not be a quick one and your Mother's would be even slower. Your debt has yet to be paid. I _own_ you."

Quick as a serpent's strike his hand flashed forward and grasped his hair pulling the boy's face close, " . ."

"Ye-yes milord."

Eyes wide, the slave winced at the pain in his neck being forced in such an awkward position. The King held him there for another few moments before releasing his hair, allowing him to straighten slightly. It was then that he noted the presence of another servant of the kingdom hanging respectfully at a distance, half in shadows. Squinting, the slave tried to discern which of the personal servants it was.

A knock on the door, the boy was leaning against, caused him to start. He glanced towards his Master, who had rearranged his features to a more impassive expression he stepped back to the desk provided and nodded sharply to the slave. At once the boy grasped the rungs and pulled the door open to admit another servant of the Ulbein household. He bowed respectfully and kept his eyes lowered, waiting.

"Speak."

"My lord, King Uther has invited you to dine with him for lunch."

"Very well."

The servant stepped back to allow the King to pass first, before following him out. _He doesn't know about the incident with the noble yet. _The slave stayed in place until both had passed out of sight before closing the door behind him and started his search for his new master. He wandered the hallways before coming to the same corner he had already passed twice. With a frustrated sigh, he leaned against the wall and waited until he spotted someone who could direct him. _Do they REALLY need so many hallways? _Another few minutes of not seeing anyone he ventured down a narrow walkway. _I wonder if I could find the dragon if I walk around enough. Surely the dragon wouldn't be IN the castle, right? No, a dragon is a massive beast. Perhaps somewhere in the forests? Or caves?_ Feeling his way around, he continued for quite a distance before he peaked out from behind a tapestry to a brightly lit area. Cautiously he looked around trying to orient himself to the layout of the castle. _Here dragon, dragon...dragon._ The creaking of a door to his left caught his attention, upon recognizing the figure a smile of relief brightened his features._ Not the dragon. _A young woman of his age backed out of the chambers with a basket in hand.

"Gwen!"

Startled, she whirled around, one hand flying to her chest, "Oh, hello. How are you feeling?"

He dipped his head respectfully, as he took the basket from her startled hand.

"I am doing well, thanks to your physician."

"Gaius is the best in the kingdom. Um, what are you doing in this portion of the castle?"

"I am lost actually. I am to tend to the Prince until a permanent replacement is found."

"Prince Arthur? Well, good luck with that."

"Indeed. Um, I am a bit lost, do you know where I can find him?"

"At this time of the day, he is training. It is along the way to where I am going. This way, then."

Following her lead, the boy carried her basket. They wound their way around the hallways in some fashion that seemed to make sense to Gwen, who pointed out various important places. _Kitchens are run by Maryanna the head cook, like a pastry hard crust on the outside and soft custard on the inside. Laundry is run by Vincina, the court gossip, if you ever need to know about the going on, she's the first to know. Sir Leon is the head of the Knights after to Prince Arthur, loyal to a fault._

They came to the courtyard and continued where the sounds of yelling, metal clanging against metal and the grunts as hits land on unprotected flesh. Coming to a point where they could see the training area they saw a couple of groups of men watching four men attack one person in the middle. _Oh, watch out!_ _No, no the OTHER way._ The middle man dodged, spun and parried blows set upon by the others. The smoothness of his moves attested ti his skills, he didn't just used his sword but his entire body as evident by his ducking under his current attacker and using his armor clad elbow to land a swift blow to his chin, effectively knocking his opponent out of the foray.

_Oooh, that is going to leave a bruise. Ah, watch out! No, no, left! Duck! _The slave couldn't help but cheer on the middle man, unconsciously weaving with the movements with his.

Several more blows rendered another opponent out of the fight, leaving it down to two; as they circled each other, the slave could not help but be impressed at their stamina. _How can they keep fighting?_ The sun was currently beating down on all in it's grasp and within the short time they were out there the slave boy was already sweating, he couldn't imagine how uncomfortable those in the metal armor were. _That will probably be a pain to clean, ugh, I don't envy their servants._The two combatants exchanged blows, each seeking to gain the upper hand. With a feint that drew the other in, the original middle man successfully disarmed his opponent and forced him to yield. Against the rousing cheers, he extended his hand to the fallen man and helped him up.

"Come on."

Gwen started down the path, leading the slave to hurry on. As they approached, the winner stuck his sword in the ground, his back to the pair. Coming to a halt behind him, Gwen got his attention.

"My Lord, uh, Prin-prince Arthur this is your temporary attendant from King Severus."

Removing his helmet, the Prince turned around to see who they brought this time. Two sets of eyes widened almost comically.

"_You!"_

"-Prat!"

Gwen looked between the two warily, biting her lip, she retrieved the basket from the distracted boy; not a moment too soon she found out as the Prince hooked his foot behind the ankle of the boy and jerked.

"Omphhh!"

Air exploded out of the boy's lungs as he hit the ground, and froze; the previously stuck sword found a new home poking against his chest.

"I believe we have some _unfinished_ business..."

A/N: ah, and they finally meet and it's not so pleasant. Mwhahaha, poor guys. Reviews are always appreciated and happily devoured.

H.D.S mo(-.-)0m


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The basket dropped to the ground as Gwen's hands flew to her mouth, a gasp tearing from her throat. Prince Arthur stood over the slave, his sword touching his chest, who glared defiantly back at the him. _Not only did I insult a noble, but The Noble. The Prince of Camelot. I just have all the luck. Keep your mouth shut...Keep your mouth shut... Keep your mouth shut... Keep your mouth-_

"Are you deaf and mute now?"

"As much as you are not arrogant and rude."

"I am _not_ arrogant!"

"Of course,_ my lord,_" the emphasis left no room for speculation on what he thought of the denial. The Prince realized he hadn't protested the latter accusation. Flushing angrily, he leaned forward, causing the slave to recline his position to avoid have the tip of the sword bore a hole in his chest.

"Do yourself a favor, and _shut up_."

He held the sword there for another moment, before he stuck the sword into the dirt near the slave's head, only just missing his protruding ears. He spun on his heel and issued instructions to the knights gathered.

Taking advantage of his distraction, the boy scrambled to his feet and turned to face the still stunned serving girl. Bending down, he retrieved the fallen basket and linens, "sorry about this, I would have carried it for you but," he lowered his voice, "his _high_ness needs me to cater to his every whim-"

Gwen's eyes widened as she took back her load just as Arthur appeared behind the boy once more and slapped him upside his head. Bowing, she hurried away from the disgruntled prince. With the one person he semi-knew gone, the boy seemed to curl in on himself as he felt all eyes on him. His shoulders became more rounded as he turned his face down and used his thinly covered foot to toe the grass self-consciously.

The Prince eyed the boy for a moment before he directed his next comments, "get into your ranks of three and continue the first form of combat defense maneuvers. Sir Leon, you have the field."

"Yes Sire."

The boy didn't look up to see who the Prince was talking to, so he started in surprise when a metal clad arm was thrust into his view. He stared at it in confusion before glancing towards it's owner.

"Well, come on then, I haven't got all day. It's bloody hot in here."

Understanding jolted the boy into action, he tried to ignore the way his ears heated in embarrassment. He quickly and efficiently removed the armor with his bound hands. Once the armor was dissembled on the ground, he bit his lip, chewing it absentmindedly. With a furrowed brow he stooped to pick it up. The Prince was already heading toward the armory when he realized the boy wasn't behind him.

"WHAT are you doing? Just pick it up and carry it."

As the boy fumbled again, the Prince sighed in exasperation. Bending down, he grabbed the armor and shoved it into the boy's hands with the exception of the helmet; which he shoved on his head. Smirking, he retrieved the sword from the ground, Arthur waved onward. He led the way through an opening with held all manner of weaponry and extra armor.

"I need you to clean and polish my armor. Then after that you are to maintain the sharpness of the blade. I shall be dining with the kings, do not be late."

Quickly he glanced around, his shoulders tense,"-but Sire-!"

Turning on his heel, he left the boy there to finish his chores. Once the slave heard the door clang shut, the boy dropped the armor and awkwardly removed the helmet. Looking around, he spied the necessary supplied and set about to start on his chores. Sitting on a tipped over bucket, he scrubbed and restored the armor to a much better state.

_Eeeeek! Thud. Thud. Thud. _The creaking of metal echoed lightly in the armory, causing the slave to slow his ministration as he tried to identify the new comers. A soft _shing _signaled a blade being put to rest in a scabbard. Hearing the footsteps face, the boy let out a breath of air and rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the sudden tension. Lifting the helmet, he turned it about to check the various angles. Nodding to himself, he set it aside and grasped hilt of the sword Arthur left for him. Hefting it, he frowned at the unexpected weight of it. Licking his lips, he looked around him, W_hat do I use to 'maintain the blade'? _His eyes traveled from his manacled hands to the blade and back again. His brow furrowed in concentration as he debated the problem. Worrying his lip, he balance the bade between his knees, and pressed them together to keep it in place. Using his hands, he tested if the blade would stay in place; it wobbled slightly but seemed to hold it's place enough.

With a slight tremor he picked up a stone that was reside near the other swords, _This looks the ones I have seen other knights use to run along the length of the blade._ Adjusting his grip on the stone he tried to mimic the motions he had seen before. He shivered at the shrill sounds of the metal being scrapped. After several more passes his movements became less jerky and he actually got more of the blade than not. He was finishing another run when his hands jerked as a voice broke the relative stillness.

"Those knights from Ulbein are all the size of Sir Ericus. I wonder if all their people are of similar stature."

"By people, you mean their women."

The two voices chuckled and continued their joshing. The second voice spoke up, "Samuel, I need you to buff our chainmail and sharpen these blades."

"Yes Sire!"

A young boy's voice chirped eagerly. The sounds of rustling clothing announced the exit of the two knights while the faint swishing of chain-mail spoke of the boy's continued presence. The young boy started humming tonelessly, oblivious to the presence of the slave in the darken corner. The hissing of breath being forced through teeth caused the boy Samuel to spin around, eyes darting fearfully to and fro. A movement out of the corner of his eye had him backing away fearfully. A shape seemed to elongate before his eyes and he gasped in shock before the opening of the door behind him illuminated every corner of the room and he saw that it was just another servant.

A huge sigh of relief exploded from his lungs, the relief so great that he had to sit down, else his legs collapse beneath him. A voice behind him muttered darkly has they grabbed a dull sword and shield before exiting again.

"You scared me pretty good there for a moment. I have to admit, I had almost run out of here as if Maryana herself were chasing me!"

When the other servant didn't answer, Samuel took a better look at him, he noted the dark attire which was uncommon in Camelot.

"Oh. _Oh! _Are you from Ulbein? Wow, I have never met anyone from there before. Are the people as big there as they say? I heard the other knights talking _all _about it."

The boy bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Are there _really_ dragons that live in your mountains?! We used to have them here, or so I heard; well, that is until the King had them all killed which I think is sad cause they would be brilliant to ride, don't you think-?"

Samuel froze as he saw the slave fumbling with the sword in hand. He flinched as it fell to the ground, the blade ringing throughout the room. Quickly he bent down to retrieve it, as he hand grasped the hilt he too fumbled with it but was able to keep a hold of it. With wide eyes, Samuel switched hands and rubbed his fingers together. A sticky substance smeared. Angling his hand and the sword into the light he yelped as he identified the substance.

"Sir! You are bleeding!"

Carefully he set the sword down and reached his hand out, tugging slightly at the slave's sleeve; he was able to guide him into the light, enough to search for the wound. Grasping his wrist the boy was confused to feel cold metal. Following the bloody rivulets to the guy's hand where a large gash was weeping blood. Holding the hands in place, the young squire reached as far as he could in order to grasp some extra strips of cloth. Using his teeth to hold the excess, the boy wadded up a strip and pressed it tightly to the wound on the right hand before wrapping it tightly and securing it with more cloth as we repeated the same process with the other hand.

Samuel looked up into the teen's face, "those aren't too deep but you better be careful, sir."

"Thank you. Where did you learn how to do that?"

"Me mum had to clean up my brothers enough and I would watch being the youngest. Then when she was out working I had to do it."

"You did very well."

The boy blushed happily, "it's no wonder you cut yourself; how could you sharpen a sword with your hands bound?"

"Very carefully and with lots of practice, although apparently I wasn't careful enough," he nodded to his now bandaged hands.

The squire smiled at the slave as he bent down and retrieved the bloody sword. Taking a clean rag in hand, he found a small amount of water and proceeded to clean the hilt and blade.

"Um, _why_ are your hands bound?"

The slave regarded the young boy with a measuring gaze. Sighing softly, he looked around for a clean place to sit and sat down cross legged.

"I am a slave," he said it simply yet matter of fact. His eyes seemed to darken with that phrase. That one sentence that condemned him.

"Slave? Slavery is strictly outlawed in Camelot!"

"What? N-no slaves?" Disbelief and hope crossed the young man's features. His eyes immediately dropped to his bound hands reflexively, he opened and closed them experimentally. The last words he whispered with pain and longing. The squire opened his mouth to reply but seemed to think better of it and continued his cleaning in peace. Several moments passed before he decided to try again.

"Have you eaten yet? I know a shortcut to the kitchens and-" He cut off as the slave and leapt to his feet his eyes alit with panic. After thanking the boy profusely, he sprinted out the door and back into the inner parts of the castle. Skidding to a stop as he almost passed a female servant.

"Where does the Prince dine?"

The servant pointed down the hall to two large wooden doors. Trotting, the slave slipped the door opened and hurried inside. Upon entering he noted in relief that the food was only just now finishing being laid out. With quick steps he took his place behind the Prince Arthur and waited in silence as Uther stood to speak. Not bothering to listen, the slave glance around, taking note of those in attendance. Dipping his head respectfully as he made eye contact with Gwen who was there to help her mistress Morgana and Gaius.

The sound of a throat clearing brought him back from his observations and quickly he lifted the jug of wine to fill Arthur's goblet. Keeping an eye on the Price while also observing the other attendee's was quite the juggling act. After refilling the goblet several times, the slave left his post to procure another jug. Passing by his King and the attending servant, he deftly avoided a collision with said servant, who had stepped back after refilling the Master's cup.

The slave sighed in relief as he saw a Camelot servant approaching him with a fresh jug. Awkwardly he was able to switch them out, having had the female servant remove the one in his hands first before giving him the new one. Winding his way back up to the head table he refilled the cup and resumed his place, in the show of the chair. As the night wore on, the slave's stomach started to rumble unhappily. The Prince, having paused in his drinking for the last few hours, caught his slave's wandering attention with a subtle lift of his goblet. Stepping forward he adjusted the angle of the jug downward to satisfy the empty cup. Tipping the jug in an upward position, a cry of surprise tore from his lips as he careened forward. The slave twisted slightly to avoid slamming into the Prince, but he wasn't able to stop the wine from sloshing over the lip of the jug and splattering on the Prince's royal coat. The momentum carried the slave forward, cracking his chest against the table before coming to a rest on the ground.

"GUARDS!"

Uther's voice thundered in the hall, silencing all previous chatter. Two knights on duty hurried over and roughly jerked the groaning slave to his feet.

"Through the clumsy oaf into the dungeons. Perhaps spending the night there will teach him to watch his own feet."

The guards squeezed his upper arms as they dragged the stumbling boy past the attendees, most of whom didn't bother to pay any attention to the spectacle. The king immediately resumed his conversation, the others took their cue and soon the hall was once again filling with laughter and the chinking of goblets being lowered to their tables. Three sets of eyes followed the slave's progress out the door, two of those in sympathy and one in satisfaction.

With wide eyes, the slave boy gulped as he was pulled down a series of twists and turns. Weakly, he stumbles down the stairs to the dimly dungeons. Other guards stood at attention, one moved to open the heavy metal doors, allowing them to toss the slave into the cell.

"What's this one in for...sorcery?"

"No. He spilled wine on the Prince."

"Rotten luck this one."

A guard with little facial hair drew close to the door and peered inside. Furrowing his brow he ran his sword against the bars. The boy jerked his head up and scooted back until his back hit the stone wall.

"If it's such a small offense why was he shackled before he was taken down here?"

Murmurs accompanied the sounds of several feet crowding around the bars. Drawing his legs to his chest, and resting his arms on his knees as he buried his face in his hands; as if that simple act would be able to block out the image and sounds of the guards who were all trying to get a glimpse of the young man. Several moments passed before the guards grew tired of the lack of response from the prisoner. Shivers wracked the prisoner's body, he cupped his hands together and blew into them in an effort to warm them. Soft footsteps echoed in the dungeons causing him to pause and lean forward. A soft voice filtered down the way. The boy started to unfold himself when a guard escorted Gwen to the door and he stopped.

"Two minutes."

Nodding her understanding, Gwen waited for the guard to unlock the cell and back away slightly. Approaching the crouching boy, she balanced the plate on one hand and used the other to hand over a thin blanket.

"Gaius provided the blanket and I brought you a little bit of leftovers."

Gratefully, the slave sat back down, slowly he relieved her of the blanket; swinging it around so that it settled on his shoulders. His shivering eased slightly with the new layer of cloth.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do it, but I am grateful to you, for it."

"It's the least we could do. I saw what that other person did, it is not fair that you are being punished for it."

"It does not matter, even if I were to accuse Draco-that's the servant-it would only cause more problems."

"I do not understand. Why?"

"It is simple, it would be my word versus his."

"I still do not understand."

The boy sighed, "may I?"

He gestured to the plate she still held, flushing she handed it over. The boy broke the bread and roll into two pieces, handing one piece to her while he quickly chewed the other. Swallowing, "I am a slave."

A line formed between Gwen's eyebrows as she waited.

"I see you still do not understand, perhaps this is because slavery is outlawed in the kingdom, though I doubt it is enforced on the outlying villages. In the hierarchy of one's station there is no lower station than that of a slave. Their master for all intent and purposes own everything. Your life, body, and mind. Clothing that I wear is but a loaner, should I severely displease my Master while in his castle, he could just as easily take it away."

Gwen's hands flew to her mouth, her eye dark with horror.

"I am lucky though, my current master is at least more-generous than his predecessor."

"_Generous?"_

"TIME."

The guard banged on the bars causing both of them to jump, startled. Flustered, she took back the proffered plate as the boy had already liberated the small chunk of cheese from it. With eyes kept lowered, he again expressed his gratitude for her thoughtfulness and asked that she pass along his thanks to Gaius as well. Their footsteps eventually faded away and the prisoner was content to slowly consume the last of his meal in thoughtful silence. Blinking slowly, the young man angled his head to see out the one barred window. No visual light told him it was late. With a sigh, he made his way to the small mound of straw that was substitute bedding. Laying down, he curled himself into the fetal position. He closed his eyes and willed himself to slow the tremors of his body. Eventually the darkness of night swallowed the boy up and he was able to sink into his dreams.

_Long stems of wheat bowed under the assault by a young child. Arms pumping with cheeks flushed in exertion, the child added a burst of speed as he saw the familiar roof of his house. _

"_NO! NO! Leave him alone!" Desperate screams filled the small home. Heavy hands encircled his small arms, dragging him out into the sunlight. _

_Blinking rapidly, the darkness didn't lighten. Hands held in front of him, he tried to find something solid, something to ground himself with. His barefoot hit something hard, causing it to skittered along the stone floor. Bending down he felt along the ground until he was able to find it. It was larger than his hand and weighed a half a stone. Letting his hands explore the surface, his eyebrows puckered as it fought to form a mental image in the complete darkness. His fingers dipped into a large hole, adjusting his grip, barely another moment passed before his fingers found another dip of the same size. Gasping, he fund the middle between the two holes and moved his fingers down and found yet another hole, this one smaller and more triangular. His voice burst from his mouth uncontrollably as he flung the object away and moved backwards until his back hit the rough texture of an unfinished stone wall. 'A skull! I am going to die! I don't want to die!'_

_Hands grabbed him by his arm and one by his waist. He flailed his free arm and kicked at his captor, his eyes wild with fear. ' .Letmego.' The hand on his arm shifted to grab his hair instead, pinning him against the man. 'NOOOOOOOOO!' A gale-force wind exploded off the boy, throwing the man backwards until he met the resistance of the room's wall. He slid down, dazed._

_The cold metal slipped around his neck first, clicking place, followed by the restraining of his wrists. The boy fell face forward, his legs suddenly unable to hold himself up. Blearily, he fought the sudden weight of his eyelids. The weight of his head drifted closer to the ground, his shaking arms barely keeping from collapsing completely to the ground. On arm buckled, he caught himself with the length of his forearm, one arm trembling at the strain. WIth a heavy sigh, he was unable to resist any longer and fell forward into oblivion. 'It is done, my Master. He is yours.'_

Gasping, the boy rolled off his straw mound, sputtering. Squinting, he used his hands to wipe the water from his eyes. Blinking, he stared up at Prince Arthur. Quickly he averted his eyes, "my lord?"

"You are hereby released into my custody, as your punishment is completed."

The slave stared dumbly at the Prince.

"Well, come on. I haven't got all day."

Scrambling to his feet unsteadily, he braced himself up on the wall before hurrying to the Prince's side. Arthur tossed the empty bucket he held and reached for the boy's wrists. Grasping the arm, he pulled on the black sleeve fully exposing the manacles. His eyes shifted up to the boy's, they searched those blue eyes until the slave dropped his gaze, avoiding the Prince.

"Guards!"

The shuffling of boots alerted the Prince to their heeding his command. Two guards stood at attention, "yes, my lord?"

"Why is the prisoner shackled?"

The two guards looked at each other in confusion, before one spoke up, "Prince Arthur, the prisoner was already restrained when he was brought in." They looked from the prince expectantly to the prisoner's shackles and back.

"You _really_ are a clotpole, aren't you," the prisoner muttered under his breath. Whipping around, the Prince glowered at the boy.

"I-am-a-slave."

_Blink, blink. _"Slavery is illegal."

"...in Camelot"

"We're _in_ Camelot."

"I'm from Ulbein."

"But you are_ in_ Camelot, thereby subject to our laws."

"Why are you arguing about this?"

"To show you: I am right and you are wrong." Prince Arthur replied superciliously.

"Give it back."

The Prince raised an eyebrow, "give what back?"

"The past ten minutes of my life you just wasted with your pointless drivel."

A faint sound distracted the Prince, looking over his shoulder he noted that the guards were further away than before. Sensing his attention on them, they both stiffened and avoided eye contact. Rolling his eyes, he returned his attention to the slave, he frowned as he noted the triumphant smirk on the boy's lips.

"Oh, shut up."

The slave mimed shutting his lips in a melodramatic move. Arthur glared at the boy's impudence. Another moment passed before the prisoner looked pointedly at Arthur then motion with his head to his hand and back up to the Prince. Lips twisted in confusion, the Prince just stared at the slave. Now rolling his eyes, the slave again made more dramatic movements.

"Oh, just spit it out, would you?"

"You _told_ me to shut up-"

"Well now I am telling you to speak up. What-is-it?"

"Can I have my hands back, now, Sire?"

Prince Arthur immediately looked down and saw that he did indeed still have a hold of the boy's arm; as if burned, he dropped it. Angrily he cuffed the boy on the back of his head lightly.

"Well, where is the key?"

When the boy didn't answer, Arthur huffed, "you may speak."

"King Severus is in possession of them," he answered promptly, inciting another roll of the Prince's eyes. Turning around, Arthur strode purposefully out of the cell and back towards the stairs.

"_Hurry up!"_

Jogging, the slave kept pace, five steps behind the Prince. Noting the way through the different hallways, the boy glanced outside every time he came up to a window. Breathing in deeply, he smiled as a birdsong filtered through the window as a vibrant bird soared past. Focusing his attention back to their path, the slave recognized the route as the one that lead to King Severus' chambers.

"My lord?"

"What?"

"If it pleases your _high_ness, I can announce your impending arrival to King Severus?"

Prince Arthur paused and turned to regard him with suspicious eyes, "very well."

With a nod in acknowledgement, the boy increased his pace so that he might arrive with enough time to properly announce his temporary master. Approaching the door he paused as he heard multiple voices coming from the room. King Severus and a younger female voice.

"_Please Sire, I must attend to the kitchens-"_

The sounds of a scuffle spurred the boy into action. He backed up several steps and jogged forward, throwing open the door, he bent forward panting as if from some great exertion.

"Sire-!"

A fist collided with the side of his head rendering him unable to deliver his message. A soft sob broke the abrupt stillness, as a figure tried to make it past the King and his slave. The King reached out to stop her but he grabbed the slave instead, who wobbled into his path, thus allowing the girl to escape.

"How dare you-!"

"My lord, please, Prince Arthur is coming to speak with you."

Severus slowed his next strike as the words registered in him mind.

"The Prince is coming here?!"

He grabbed the slave by his neck and threw him back, his body collided with the semi-opened door causing it to shut. Running his hands down his garments, the King straightened his slightly mussed hair. Adjusting his posture, he strode over to the large window and waited with hands behind his back. The slave also straightened to attention and waited. With timed precision the boy opened the door just as Prince Arthur stepped up to the door and waited without a misstep, strode into King Severus' chambers.

"King Severus, Prince Arthur of Camelot desires an audience, with regards to his new attendant."

The slave then bows and moves to the corner near the door and proceeds to kneel, keeping his head bowed and eyes on the ground. The Prince barely spares him a glance before addressing the King.

"My lord, I wish to thank you got you support in lending me the use of...your subject while you are with us. I do have one matter I wish to discuss with regards to him."

Arthur paused, allowing his eyes to search his Father's old friend, "his abilities to serve are severely limited by the shackles he wears, and I find that he takes longer to accomplish his duties because of it. With your permission, I ask that he might be released of them for the duration of his service."

"I understand your troubles, but I cannot allow him to move unshackled. That particular boy is a troublemaker and liable to disappear at first chance."

"With respect, Sire, he may remain within the confines of the shackles, but I ask that the connecting chain be removed, I shall instruct all the knights and servants within Camelot to watch the boy, if he shows any signs of flight he will be severely punished. You have my word."

The King regarded the Prince with an impassive face. Raising one hand he motioned to the slave, who nearly tripped in his haste to obey, and knelt before the King. Removing the key from around his neck, he unlocked it, so that the connector was released but the metal bands remained, an outward symbol of his status. The boy stayed in place, his head bowed and his arms still raised to his master. The king turned away after leaving the chain with the Prince in case he need use of it.

"Thank you, my lord."

With a shallow bow of the head, the Prince tapped the boy on his head and went to the door, pausing long enough to allow the boy to open it before him and left. The slave exited behind Prince Arthur; as he turned to close the door behind him, he caught a fleeting glimpse of the King. A dark scowl marred his face. WIth a sharp intake of breath, he closed the door and hurried to catch up to the Prince. Staying the appropriate steps behind him, the boy couldn't help but wonder about his new temporary master.

Taking a deep breath, he muttered a quiet "thank you", to which the Prince paused ever so slightly in acknowledgement before he continued on his path. He watched the Prince's back as he navigated the corridor. When they reached the outside, the slave had to blink several times in order to allow his eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. By the time he was able to see clearly, the Prince was already ahead of him and almost to the group of knight who were standing at attention, clearly waiting for Arthur.

Quickening his steps, he was able to make it in time to hear him instructing them on warm up drills. The boy watched carefully as he instructed a set of knights to move off to one side and further divided the rest of the remaining knights up. The slave shivered unexpectedly, his shoulders immediately tensing. He felt as though someone had just run an icy finger up his back, starting from his lower back up to his shoulder blades. Looking over his shoulder, his eyes probed every persons face as they passed, but he saw no reason for his chill. Hesitatingly he returned his attention back to the Prince.

"We'll start with the morningstars."

The slave quickly looked around down at the array of weapons, _which one was that? Sword, pike, crossbow, staves, ahh...mace, oh! _ Grabbing the handle, he made sure not to cause the spiked ball to move too much as he handed it off to the waiting Prince. _Wow. That looks like it would hurt to get hit with. Woah-!_ The slave realized quickly to step back after handing the weapons as he had to duck to avoid the whirling spiked ball. _Stupid prat._ Even as he thought it, the boy couldn't help but admire the Prince's skills.

Knight after knight went up against the Prince and each time the result was the same, the knight yielding to the Prince. _As if he needs any more reason to be a pompous prat. Oooof_! His lapse in attention caused him to miss Arthur's dismissal of the knights and subsequent toss of the mace in his direction. Fumbling, he was able to catch it before it fell and crushed his foot. Grumbling light to himself, he replaced the weapon in the only available empty slot and waited for further instructions.

_What is that?_ The boy's head swiveled around as another prick of unease teased his sense.

"That was brilliant!"

So intent was the slave at searching for the source of his unease that he completely missed the arrival of the young boy from the armory. Jerking in surprise, the slave blinked owlishly.

"You are _so_ lucky to be Prince Arthur's manservant! He is the most noble, brave and strong knight Camelot has!"

Taking note of that none the others were paying the two any mind, the slave bent down as if to rearrange the array of weapons.

"He was impressive, wasn't he?"

The admission set the young squire into a fairly comprehensive summary of the Prince's achievements, much to the slave's amusement. Smiling softly at the boy's obvious enthusiasm as he gestured wildly, mimicking the moved the Prince had made during training.

"He also won the tournament-"

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" There was a hint of mockery in the Prince's voice.

"Samuel, this is his royal prat/highness, Prince Arthur. Prince Arthur this is Samuel the squire to Sir Ericus."

The boy gazed up at the object of his admiration. A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder causing his spirit to soar with elation. _Prince Arthur is talking to me!_

"These will need to be returned to the armory."

"Sire...as a slave, I am not allowed to handle weaponry." The Prince stared in surprise at the boy, noting the flush creeping up the boy's neck at this admission.

"Well as your current Master, I command you to hand weaponry, only with my permission. There, we all good? Good."

"As you wish," the boy bowed, before gather the items, wincing as the mace slipped creating a tiny but stinging gash.

"I'll help, my Lord!" Samuel bounced on the balls of his feet as he rushed to relieve the slave of a few items. With arms full, they turned in the direction of the armory. The slave quirked a brow at the sight of the Prince walking beside him with the squire on his right. The slave stumbled slightly as another icy finger trailed up his back.

"Clumsy," the Prince scoffed before retrieving his sword from the boy, "I wouldn't want you to ruin my sword because you are uncoordinated."

The boy made no reply, his sense on alert, filtering out the Prince to focus on his surroundings. A whisper of wind ruffled his hair, tugging gently at the ends. His head snapped back over his shoulder just as the thundering hooves shook the ground. A black horse screamed as it charged toward the trio. His eyes flickered back to the boy next to the weapons in his hand to the side, he threw himself at the squire, knocking him into Prince Arthur. The two tumbled out of the path of the runaway horse. The horse was nearly upon him, as he threw his hands over his head in a desperate attempt to protect himself as the horses' hooves came down over him.

A/N Thank you so much for the reviews, words of encouragement, alerts and favorites! You guys are awesome! -One last thing: I just wanted to give a plug to Bundibird, for her adaptation of the video diary of Colin and Bradley's spider adventure. check out her hilarious story: 'How to Restore the Balance of Nature'. I almost died laughing.

A/N: Whew. That was harder than I thought it would be, to type all this up. I hope it was worth the wait. Please let me know what you think! Suggests? Criticisms?

H.D.S 9/25/2012


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: You guys are AWEsome! Thanks soooo much! I love all the input, and you definitely help to write faster! This one is to all who have reviewed!

Chapter 5:

_THUD! THUD!_ The vibrations of the horse's hooves slamming down terrifyingly close to his head and side, amplified his terror, as the thunder it created. Scrambling, the boy rolled away from the animal, who strained against the reins; which was what kept the horse from trampling the boy. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he used the time to search for Sam and Prince Arthur. Same was trembling a fair distance from the horse, with only a few scratches to show for his near death experience.

The horse whinnied as it fought to calm down, raising on it's hind legs to bring the front down as if trying to trample some unseen danger. Her eyes rolling frantically and tugged at it reins.

"Woah girl...it's alright."

The slave watched in amazement at the Prince who had managed not only to grab the reins but clam the agitated animal down.

"My lord...I-I apologize, I do not know what spooked Anabella but I beg of you to spare her life!" An older man dashed forward, wringing his hand in front of him.

"It is alright, but please take more care in the future."

Recognizing the dismissal, the man bowed several more times as he lead his horse away. Shaking himself out of his stupor, the slave boy got to his feet and barely winced as he bent down to retrieve the fallen weaponry. He paused as he realized that Sam still had not moved since the incident. Holding tight his armload, the boy knelt beside the trembling squire, "Sam...?"

Sam turned wide eyes to the slave and blinked slowly as a wide grin spread upon his face, "Did you SEE that? The Prince tucked into a roll and skidded before lunging at the horse. He grabbed it and pulled it back so it didn't hit you!"

Shaking his head in bemusement, he carefully used one hand to gesture to the still fallen weapons. Sam gave a tacit nod before retrieving the items. Arms loaded they continued on their way to the armory once they checked with the Prince who waved them away with a distracted hand. The squire showed the slave exactly where each weapon was stored.

"He's really amazing, isn't he?"

The slave quirked an eyebrow at the flushed squire, an amused smile on his lips. The young boy continued to sing praises of Arthur, extolling all his seemingly innumerable qualities. The dark haired young man continued to allow the boy to chatter on as he familiarized himself with all the tools of war. The banging of the door startled boy boys out of their respective musing, looking to see Prince Arthur standing there with a frown on his face.

"My lord?"

Prince Arthur blinked rapidly as he forced his mind back to the present, he nodded his thanks to the young boy before addressing his temporary servant.

"Prepare the horses, we're going out on patrol."

With that, he turned on his heel and left.

"But-"

The slave blinked, and sighed heavily.

"Wow! You're going on patrol! You are sooo lucky!"

"If you say so-um, do you know how to saddle a horse?"

"Of course, it's one of the first things we are taught. The Prince has his horse in the main stables. Here, I'll show you."

As they stepped outside, the sounds of many feet caught the slave's attention. Through the main gates people streamed inside, many of whom were dirty and look to be in shock. Some pulled carts with people laying on them, women cried with children in their arms. A frail looking woman was practically dragging a man, probably her husband, over her shoulder. The boy moved to help but was motioned back by the Prince who came and relieved her of her burden. He carried the man with ease to the steps and deposited him next others that were wounded and being treated by others.

The slave watched in amazement as the Prince himself went about helped the injured into the safety of the courtyard. As he went, he issued orders, making hand motions with his free hand when able.

Sam tugged on his arm and he had no choice but to follow, his mind whirling with what he just saw.

The boy lead the slave to another section where the horses were. He pointed out the stablehands and their jobs. The young man paid close attention as it was explained to him. Watch as he lead the Prince's horse out by the lead rope and brought it over to a set of poles. He watched as he secured the horse with ropes on poles on either side of him. He then explained why he put a sort of mask over the horse's face before grabbing a set of rubber brushes, and explained how to rub in a circular motion with quick firm strokes. He grabbed another set of stiff bristle brushes. Using his hand, the squire showed him how to follow the direction of the horse's hair, he made short angled strokes on one side while the slave took the other side. The young boy then handed him a softer bristle brush and told him to do the same thing but with long strokes. Using a separate comb he started on the mane and brushed it out, before carrying on to the tail.

"Now the most important part, this is a hoof pick. We use this to check and make sure no rocks are stuck inside, we clean out the dirt and grass as well but that's not as serious unless it's really packed in there and makes it uncomfortable."

The squire laid his hand high on the horse' shoulder than ran it down it's leg stopping right above the last joint where he squeezed and leaned his shoulder against the horse's. After a few moments it shifted it's weight and lifted his foot just enough that the boy was able to lift it it's hoof and demonstrated how to clean it out. The young man was attentive as he was handed the slight pad bottom layer and told to make sure to place it higher than normal, so that when it settled it would slide back with the direction of the hair, instead of against it if put too low. He mimicked the boy's movements as he used his legs to bounce the saddle off of and swing it over the horse's back, before securing the girth and tightening the latigo strap.

"Wow, I did not realize how much was involved in getting a horse ready."

"Once you've done it a few times, it becomes second nature. So, does that mean you've also never ridden before?"

Mutely, the older boy shook his head in the negative as he stroked the sides of the horse, marveling as the muscles rippled under his hand. The sound of multiple hooves clamping nearby as other servants lead horses into the courtyard. Sam placed the bridle on the horse, demonstrating how to get the bit in the mouth and pull up to work it in the back of the mouth where there are no teeth. Buckling the bridle, he secured the chain under it's chin before gasping the reins under the chin. Unbuckling the rope, he backed the horse up and lead it out to the courtyard where the others were. The servants chatted amongst each other, inviting Sam into the conversation with a question. Still petting the horse on it's flank, the slave allowed his mind to wander.

He didn't notice when the conversations ceased around him, he was so engrossed in his musings. The soft whinning of the horses broke through his internal conversation. Blinking, he glanced around to see the other servants ready with the horses in hand, at attention.

Knights, adorned in the signature red capes of Camelot, mounted their respective horses and stayed at attention while they waited the arrival of their Prince. Said Prince strode over to the remaining horse, pausing before he mounted.

"Where's your horse?"

"My horse?" The slave repeated back in confusion.

"Yes, you dolt! You need a horse to ride on patrol with us."

"I thought you knew, I am not allowed to ride, nor have I ever done so," he replied with his eyes averted.

"So you were planning to just...walk?"

"Yes, my lord."

The Prince shook his head in exasperation as he mounted and pulled his horse around, surveying his knights in approval.

"Where is you pack?"

The Prince's question caught the slave off guard, "my pack?"

"Are you going to just repeat everything I ask you?"

Across from the slave, Sam flushed as he looked apologetically at the young man, having forgotten to warn him about carrying the necessary supplies.

"I apologize, I forgot it in the stables. I will go retrieve it at once, Sire."

Prince Arthur merely waved his hand in permission while scowling at this knights in frustration. Sam scurried after the slave as he made his way back in the direction of the stables.

"I am so sorry! I forgot to tell you."

"It is alright, no harm done. What supplied will I need?"

"I have a pack mostly ready that you can use. It already has the cooking pans, utensils, medicinal herbs and wraps. I just need to grab Prince Arthur's spare sword, spear and crossbow."

With that, Sam sped towards the armory and returned with his arms completely full. The slave relieved him of several items as Sam pulled out things and explained their individual uses. Quickly as possible, he replaced the items and showed him how to store the weapons efficiently on his pack.

"Goodluck!"

With that the squire darted away to take care of his other duties, leaving the slave to face an irate Prince alone. Hefting the pack up his back, he jogged back towards the waiting ground.

"So glad you could join us. Know this, if you try to escape, the knights have orders to shoot you."

Wincing, the slave ducked his head in acknowledgement and moved to the front. With a sigh, the Prince headed out, leading the company forward without checking to make sure the slave kept pace. As the slave kept up, he flinched as his hand went reflexively to the collar beneath the neckerchief. The sudden burning startling him into a slow walk as he glanced around. A showing moved in an upper level window. Squinting, the slave gulped as he recognized the figure.

"Oy! Quit gawking and get a move on you idiot."

The slave jerked back around towards the Prince, picking up the pace, he glanced back once at the window but the figure had moved on. Rubbing his neck, the boy caught up to the Prince and kept pace easily. Several yards from the main gate the slave's shoulders loosened slightly as he took a deep breath of air._ I think this might be the first time I've been away from the King._

Prince Arthur glanced down at the slave walking alongside him and slightly behind his horse, a slight upturn to the corner of his lips. With a nudge to his horse's flanks he increased the pace. Hearing the change in pace, the slave set his pace to match without bothering to defer to his current master. _Pompous prat is probably doing it on purpose, what he doesn't realize is that this is easy considering what I have already done. _The slave made sure to keep the smirk off of his face as he continued to keep up with the horses increasing pace.

About half an hour later, the Prince slowed down for the sake of the horses to a simple speed considering the distance they had just covered. He blinked down in surprise to find the slave was still beside him and not even winded. Arthur found himself nodding his head in approval.

Several minutes later, he pulled his horse to a stop, dismounting, he handed the reins to the slave. He motioned the other knights to join him. Surreptitiously the slave observed the other knights tying off their horses and moved to the same.

"Here," the boy fumbled as he tried to catch the water skin thrown at him.

Feeling it flat, he looked to the Prince just as several more flew at him. He caught most them except the last which enlisted a growl from a younger stockier knight. Hurriedly he picked it up with the other s and started off in the direction he could hear the sound of rushing water. The faint trills of songbirds drifted on a slight breeze, greeting the boy as he drew closer to a small river. He glanced upwards in hopes of catching sight of the singing feathered friend. All he got for his curiosity were a set of stinging eyes from catching the sun's rays too many times, directly.

The sound of twigs snapping brought the dark haired boy up short. His eyes darting around, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Creeping forward, he came to the bank of the river where he knelt down and started filling each of the water skin. As he finished filling Prince Arthur's which he tied to the pack the sound of rustling bushes broke the relative quiet. Slowing his movements, he glanced up through the fringe of his bangs and gasped. Approaching the river was a buck, doe and fawn. The buck eyed the boy suspiciously before flicking his ears around, intent of listening for danger. The doe didn't make a move towards the frozen boy, choosing instead to nudge her child towards the water. Walking on shaky legs, the fawn crept closer till they were at the edge; slowly he dipped his lowered head forward and started to lap the water up. The slave watched in awe as the family took turns drinking water while the others stood vigilant nearby. The boy chuckled softly as the young one tugged on the tail of the buck causing him to retaliate with a soft nudge of his prongs. The fawn darted away from the Father and into the river. The current tugged gently at the fawn. Curious large brown eyes turned to the boy, who stilled reflexively. On cautious legs, the speckled animal drew closer, his eyes flickering at every tiny sound. With a last small step he leaned in snuffling the boy's hair, causing it to stick up at all angles. The slave pressed his lips together in an effort to smother a giggle that threatened to startle the fawn away.

A soft whisper of warning rustled through the leaves and branches. The two froze, their eyes making contact, the fawn's ears twitched and the slave's eyes widened as a tacit thought was communicated. _Danger!_ At once the buck and doe were at the fawn's side nudging them back onto the bank before fleeing into the thick cover of the forest. Gathering the water skins, the slave turned and fled back up the way he came.

"Probably lost, that useless buffoon!"

The angry mutterings of his current master spurned the boy to go faster. He made to leap over a particularly tall root when the air around him seemed to charge with an unseen force. The distraction cost him his balance and he ended up sprawled across the forest floor.

"Oomph!"

"I sent you to a simple task of filling up water and here I find you, sleeping on the job?!"

The boy on the ground raised his head, spitting out a leaf that got stuck on his lips. He started to reply when his senses screamed a warning. His hand shot out, grabbing the ankle of the Prince, who stood indignant before him, and with a little help from magic he pulled. With a cry, the Prince toppled over. The thunk of an arrow slamming into the tree placed where his chest would have been, still vibrated with intensity.

Instinctively, Prince Arthur was already rolling out of the way of any further incoming shots. Springing to his feet, the Prince only spared a moment to violently yank the boy to his feet before weaving behind the nearest line of trees. The slave knelt beside the Prince desperately trying to sooth his trembling limbs. With wide eyes, he frantically searched for the culprit. The faint whistling of an arrow cutting through the air announced it's presence seconds before it landed with a thud just on the other side of the trunk, the pair used as a shield.

"You just HAD to take your sweet time getting water."

"What-? You are blaming me?"

The yelling of charging men cause the boys to forgo their argument in an effort to survive. With sword in hand, Prince Arthur turned, using his momentum to meet the blade. Using one hand to hold the wrist of the man attacking him, the blond prince centered himself so he could kick the man in his middle causing him to fold.

"Your left!"

Reacting, the Prince parried a blow aimed at his neck. Gritting his teeth, he twisted his sword and slashed diagonally. More men crashed through the underbrush, their blades glinting in the sunlight. Three men surrounded the tiring Prince, one of who was massive in size. With a mighty roar the large man swung his two-handed sword clashing against the smaller man.

Prince Arthur grunted in an effort to keep from being knocked over. His arm shook with strain. Leaning in it, he brought his other hand forward to change into a two-handed grip as well. The giant broke the contact with a brushing fist to the face. Arthur slammed backward to the ground, gray spots pulsating in his vision. Blinking, he could only watch in a strange detached way as the blade flew towards him, at the same time as a figure rammed into the giant, throwing his aim off. The sword hit the forest floor with such force that it tore through the thick foliage and embedded in the soft dirt. Arthur watched as the giant barely moved at the assault; instead the figure bounced off of him and rolled several feet away.

Taking the slight distraction for what it was, Prince Arthur leapt to his feet, running full tilt, he brought his own blade down upon the man. A nice gash started to bleed across the giant's back. Snarling he backhanded the Prince, once again causing him to end up supine on the floor. Blinking to clear his spotted vision, he tensed as he felt the man's angry approach. The ground beneath him seemed to trembled at this touch. The man's fathomless black eyes seemed to swear murder on the fallen Prince. Yelling, the man brought the sword down upon the Prince, who tried to move out of the way. Another yell seemed to mix with the first as a lithe figure jumped on the giant man's back, one arm around his neck, the other held something in his fist which he brought down repeatedly on his head.

Seizing the opportunity, Arthur grabbed his sword once more and thrust it into the rib cage of the giant man.

"Ha-! Uh oh!"

Prince Arthur's victory was short lived as gravity worked against him. Releasing his sword he tried to move out from beneath him but didn't get far enough. The great weight of the giant and exhaustion caused the blonde boy to be pinned under the bulk of the body. The small figure who had been on the large back fell off and came to a stop. Panting, the slave crawled wearily over to the Prince.

"Sire!"

Kneeling beside him the dark haired boy put his hands on the dead giant's shoulders and pulled.

"Nyahhh...Urggggh...stupid...fat..._come on_!"

Straining until he was red in the face, the slave released his hold, letting the full weight settle back on the Prince, who groaned in pain. _I need leverage. I need a stick...or a spear!_

Reaching behind him, he shrugged off the pack, pulling out the spear. He wedged the bunt end under the large man and pushed up. Bracing the spear against his back, the slave used his one free arm and tugged at the Prince. Feeling a sudden release of weight, the Prince squinted; whom recognizing what the boy was doing help to worm his way from beneath the corpse.

Two sickening snaps collided with each other overlapping. Air exploded from the slave's lungs as he collapsed under the weight of the corpse. A groaned murmured through his clenched teeth, he tried to shift from underneath but sharp pain convinced him of the folly of that idea. _What is that? A guy can't be that bony!_

Reaching his one free arm up, he felt along his back where something poked into his back. With a hiss he drew his hand back and felt farther down. He felt along the smooth shaft and he understood, the spear snapped in half. He felt hands roaming his body where the giant covered him and he had to fight to contain a shudder at the unfamiliar contact. The hands seized him by his left arm and leg, trying to pull him out; his cry of pain cause the pulling to cease. Crunching leaves spoke of the Prince's agitation as he paced back and forth.

"Sire!"

The slave blinked as the Prince spun around, facing the group of hurrying knights.

"Quick, help me get him out from underneath him."

More boots entered the boy's line of sight as the knights moved to do his bidding.

"On three. One, two, three."

They lifted as one, allowing the slave to crawl from beneath them. He got to his hands and knees. A twinge of pain started as a dull throb, pulsating into a painful beat. Breathing through his nose, he sat down cross legged and examined his feet. Pain exploded as he touched his left ankle. Gritting his teeth he glanced around, before he placed both hands on the offending limb. Gold flashed in his eyes and a sigh of relief escaped.

"What are you doing?"

Jumping slightly, the boy looked over his shoulder at Arthur.

"What are _you_ doing?"

"No, what _are_ you doing?"

Sighing, the slave gestured to his leg, "Checking to see how bad the damage is."

"And...?"

"Merely a sprained ankle."

Nodding the Prince returned back to the circle of knights who were examining the other bodies. At least five other bodies besides the large man littered the ground, one of which had a large branch crushed on top of him.

"I dispatched those three and the giant, but I do not know what happened to the other two."

Prince Arthur glanced back at the only other person present at the time of the attack. The boy was taking careful small steps, the pack on his back bobbing with his movements. Shaking his head, he addressed the knights.

"We should head back before the fading light overtakes us and report back to the King."

The Prince followed the knights as they made their way back to where the horses were tied. With swords drawn the lead knight paused, holding up his free hand causing the others to stop; Prince Arthur grunted as a slight body bumped into him. Turning he gave the slave a raised eyebrow and received a dip of the head in apology. Following the lead knight signals, the Prince crept up to the knight and scouted up the path, ducking behind trees as he went. The slave made to follow but a knight motioned him back. Chewing on his bottom lip, the boy shifted from one foot to another, his hands reaching up to his neckerchief, tugging lightly to loosen it.

"ON ME!"

The slave jumped slightly as the shout caused an immediate reaction tot he surrounding knights. As one, they surged forward to their Prince, swords in hand. Within seconds the boy was alone save for the sounds of battle in front of him. Glancing around, he crawled forward and gasped. Clearly the men who had attacked them were a scouting party. The forest was teeming with men. _What should I do? Where's Arthur? There must be five men to every knight. There's no way they can defeat them all._

The Prince swung around after he dispatched his latest opponent to groan in dismay , rising over the crest of an incline were another group of charging men.

"Is there no end to these bandits?"

The first few men charged with reckless abandonment, their swords raised, glinting in the late afternoon sun. Prince Arthur readied himself as the roar became deafening, the ground trembled under his feet. Soft forest dirt split meters in front of the Prince, the force of which caused him and the others down on one knee, one hand on the ground in an attempt to steady themselves. The charging men's momentum was too great, causing them to plunge into the chasm. Several tried to stop themselves, resulting in their loosing their footing and rolling to the crevice.

One bandit used his momentum to try and leap over the divide. Watching in grudging respect, Arthur rose to his feet to meet the bandit. He managed to hit with a thud, his arms scrambling on the edge. The dirt crumbled under his hands as he too fell.

The rumbling stilled, and the Prince took stock of hi men, most of whom were finishing off their opponents. The ground was littered with bodies; which Arthur noted with relief only to see a few bright red capes among the fallen. He noted with satisfaction as several bandits fled back the way the knights had come.

A scream rent the air for a second before it was choked off. Arthur glanced around and noticed for the first time who was missing. _The slave!_

_I'd appreciate letting me know if you find anything that doesn't make sense._

_H.D.S 10.13.12_

_Also, LOVE YOU GUYS! Please R&R_


	7. Chapter 6

AN: I write this to you as I bleed to death; my wound may be small, but it is fierce! When you read about my unfortunate and untimely death, do NOT believe what you read in the papers...they lie. When they tell you it was the result of using an old CutCo cheese-slicer to slice red onions, don't listen to them. It was a heroic fight between good versus evil...evil red onions of DOOM! But I have fought the good fight, and go in peace.

ok, enough of the that...must hold out and finish the chapter.

-0-0-000-0-0-

Chapter 6

Prince Arthur swore under his breath, spinning around he charged back the way he had come, following the trail cut by the fleeing bandits. Choosing his steps as carefully as he could, despite his hurry, avoiding the driest of leaves and brittle branches. Stopping behind a wide tree, he pause, listening. The low murmur of voices caused the Prince to check the direction of the wind before he proceeded to make his way in that direction.

Moving forward, he checked in each direction, realigning his path several times until he came upon the pack the slave had been wearing; it bore the royal seal.

"Tell me, boy!"

A muffled grunt followed by a painful followed by a painful gasp of breath was his answer.

"If you do not tell me-"

Furrowing his brow, the Prince tried to lean closer as the man lowered his voice, _No doubt whispering threats. Where are the knights?_ Taking a deep breath, Arthur inched from behind his cover and slowly moved forward toward the man with the sword at the slave's neck. The slave shook his head at his words, not noticing the thin trail of blood that ran down his neck, the result of the blade pressed tightly to his throat. His head snapped back against the tree he was being held against, one hand fisted in his ebony hair. The man shook the boy with angry motion as he breathed more threats at the resisting boy.

_snap_

Two sets of eyes looked in the direction of the disturbance, one in wariness, the other in consternation; while one set closed. Prince Arthur surged forward, sword in a ready position, still several feet from the pair. The bandit grasped the boy and flipped him around, the blade still at his throat, the other arm around the slave's chest, pinning his arms at his sides.

"Come no closer!"

The man barked, a smile coming to rest on his lips as the Prince complied. Taking another step backward and to the side of the tree, he tried to put more distance between him and the more skilled Prince. He snarled, drawing another line of blood on his captive's neck as the Prince matched his steps.

"I said, come NO closer!"

"I have not, i am the same distance to you as before."

Prince Arthur eye the bandit, his eyes shifting from his unkempt matted black hair, to his sun-weathered forehead currently lined with stress; to his wild brown eyes, sweat streaked planes of his face. He was dressed in a well-worn leather sleeveless vest, some parts ragged from years of constant battles; with a belt and sheath on his narrow hips which tapped against his thin leather breeches tucked into equally thin boots.

"Let the boy go, your quarrel is with me."

Ignoring the highly affronted expression on the slave's face, Arthur took a step forward. Glancing around, the man seemed to be stalling, _As if he were waiting for something. _ Warily, the Prince took note of the stillness of the forest. _There's no birdsong, even the wind has stilled. _The forest as a whole was holding it's breath, anxious to see destiny unfolding before their privileged eyes.

"Wait! Stop!

The Prince stretched forth his hand, as he hurried forward his eyes wide. The man had foolishly taken several more steps backwards without checking his surrounding. His foot hit air as he stepped backwards off the edge and tumbled out of view, dragging his captive with him.

The dark haired boy grunted as his back collided with the ground, distracting him from the constant stinging of his neck wounds. Dull thuds echoed in his ear as their bodies bounced and rolled down the ravine. A sickening crack reverberated in the air. Green and brown colors swirled in his line of sigh, forcing him to close his eyes before his stomach rebelled. He groaned as sharp rock, roots and thorns introduced themselves to his body without care. Eventually the rolling slowed as the ground beneath him smoothed out and leveled off. His momentum caused him to roll right over a large but soft mound before coming to a rest on his side, facing a fallen rotting log.

The slave laid there, daring only to breathe slowly as his mind fought to catch up to his new circumstances. _Ok..arms, check; legs...mostly there, check; back...? Oh, that's not good. Not good. Let's try something else; neck? Still attached, if barely. Head? Well, that's always been debatable. Eyes? It's really dark, oh, I guess I need to open them for best results. Wha-?! Why do the bushes have eyes?_

Peering back at the boy were large eyes; they stared back at him for several moments before blinking. The eye's grew larger as the creature moved out from the shadows and into the light. The eyes seemed to constrict in the brightness of the sunlight. The boy blinked, still attempting to gather his bearings. He blinked several more times as he regarded the creature, he continued to stare, then jerked back in surprise as it's eyes rotated in different directions. _What the-?!_ Fascinated, he was amazed to see the creature approach him, close enough to touch his dark neckerchief. _Wha-where did it go?_

Blinking rapidly, he searched the immediate surroundings for signs of the creature. _Snap!_ _Crunch! Crunch! Crack!_ Tensing his shoulders, he hunched down in an attempt to not draw attention. Biting his lip, he suppressed a groan as his neck protested. The sounds of breaking branches and leaves being trampled under foot crescendoed as another approached his prone position. Taking shallow breaths, the slave surreptitiously felt along the ground. His hands clasped around a branch about the width of his three fingers. Shifting his grip, he counted under his breath, listening, calculating the best moment to attack. As he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and turn him over, he clumsily swung his makeshift weapon.

The hand left his shoulder in a blur as it shifted, catching the branch. Startled blue eyes met exasperated blue eyes.

"What do you think you were doing?"

"Trying to knock some sense into you...my lord?"

"Why?"

"You are the Prince, you cannot just approach a person unawares!"

The Prince cleared his throat, pointedly look down at the boy's side.

"Oh." The Prince had his sword an inch from the boy's side. One twitch of his hand, and it would find a new home in the slave.

"Oh indeed, now get up. You can't laze about all day, there are others still out there and we are alone."

"Alone? But the knights..." The slave trailed off at the muscle twitch in the Prince's jaw.

"Ah. Um, could you not point that thing at me?"

The Prince blinked uncomprehensively at him, before he withdrew the sword and waited for the slave to move. He waited.

"You _do_ realize that, in order for us to leave, you _need to move_."

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Working on it."

"Work _faster_."

The slave glared at the Prince as he gingerly moved his limbs, testing out what still hurt and what was functioning. A gasp tore from his lips as the Prince grabbed him by his arm and yanked him up. Grey spots pulsated across his vision as he swayed where he stood. Pain flickered up and down his spine, sending pin pricks all the way down to his toes. Panting, he nodded to Arthur, who frowned at his reaction to being pulled to his feet. The Prince turned around to lead them out and back to the city.

"Sire?"

"What now?"

"The pack. I will carry it."

"You can hardly stand, let alone carry it."

"You will need to be without burden should we be attacked and forced to fight."

Unable to argue with his logic, he relinquished his claim to the pack. _Is that what took him so long? He went back for the pack? _As he hoists up the pack, he felt the strange sensation of something on his back. The soft tapping as if someone was tapping along his shoulder to the pack in a steady but slow progress. Fidgeting his shoulders, he was satisfied when the sensation stopped.

"Let us make haste."

At his urging, the slave quickened his steps and fell into rhythm behind his master, intently listening and stretching out his senses. All of them. Throwing out his arms, the boy frantically tried to regain his footing. Hearing the commotion, Arthur turned and rolled his eyes. Snaking their way through the ravine, Prince Arthur took measured steps, ears attuned to the chatter of the forest. The snapping of a twig brought him up short. He raised his hand signaling a stop. Glancing behind him, the slave stumbled into the still Prince causing them both another step forward.

"Sorry-"

"_Ssshhhh! _"

Snapping his mouth shut, the slave peered around the tense broad shoulders. A blur of brown hurried overhead, leaping over the width of the ravine at its most narrowed part. A series of thuds relayed the lack of finesse with which the blur landed with. The sound of retreating footfalls relaxed both sets of shoulders. With a tip of his head, they both started forward towards the narrowing. Pausing long enough to confirm no other persons around, the Prince sheathed his blade and began picking his hand holds carefully. Quickly, he scaled the side and peered first over his shoulder and then in front of him.

Satisfied, he pulled himself up and over, scrambling as part of the edge crumbled under his weight. Crouching down, he called to the slave, encouraging him to come up as well. The boy chose high hand holds to cover more distance quicker. He squinted up at the Prince as dirt trickled down the face of the ravine, threatening to get dust in his eyes. Huffing in exertion, the slave concentrated on just getting one hand higher than the other. He spat as a particularly large amount of dirt hit him in the face. He shook his head in an effort to get as much of it off as possible. He paused too long. The ground beneath his left hand crumbled, sending him sliding a foot down.

"What's taking so long?" The Prince demanded as he stopped looking around the forest to gaze down at the dust covered slave. The ebony haired boy ignored the way the corners of Arthur's mouth twitched. Evening out his breathing, the slave shimmied up the rest of the way to the edge. He hooked his forearm over the edge and grunted as he tried to pull himself up.

"Ugh-"

Arthur rolled his eyes as he reached down and grabbed the back of the boy and lifted the boy up. With enough of his own weight off of him, the slave managed to pull himself over the edge. He lay on his stomach, panting.

"Let's go."

Arthur looked at the position of the sun before taking off in the direction of Camelot, not bothering to make sure the boy was following. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a bloody tint to the forest. The slave shuddered. They walked and walked and walked and walked. Wearily, the slave tripped over an inconveniently placed root, falling face down on the forest floor. He got back up and hurried to catch back up with the Prince, who hadn't even paused. Another few moments later he became reacquainted with the ground.

Prince Arthur paused, waiting. When he didn't hear the sounds of the boy scrambling back to his feet, he turned around. Sighing in exasperation, he angled away from the boy and probed the forest for a decent place.

"Alright, let's set up camp for the night."

"What-? So soon? I can still go on."

"Yes, I am sure you can. Nonetheless, soon it will be too dark to see."

The Prince regarded the selected area with approval before turning to the boy, who was also looking around.

"Well, what are you looking for?"

"Er-?"

"Build a fire, bring out the rations. Honestly, are you worthless?"

Flushing, the slave set the Prince's pack down so he could rifle through it. Retrieving the dried meat, he placed it on the tin plat he found. Setting it aside, the slave looked about for firewood. Biting his lip, the boy gathered sticks and brought them back to their camp. Dropping them in a pile, the dark haired boy crouched down, allowing his eyes to search for a decent stone. Grabbing one he supposed to be promising, he also grabbed some flint from their supplies. He brought the two together, banging one into the other. After several moments of fruitless work, he felt the gaze of the Prince on him. Gulping he angled it and tried again.

"What are you doing?"

"Um, starting a fire?"

"Really? Cause to me it just looks like you are clapping stones together. Have you never done this before? Even _Morgana_ could light a fire and she's a _girl._"

"You do realize of course that most all peasant women can start fires."

"A slave."

"Yes, we've been over this before."

"I might have done this before I was a slave, but I don't remember."

"Before you were a slave? Were you not born one?"

"No, I was not."

"It's getting cold; here, I will show you once, got it?"

The Prince retrieved several rocks and arranged them in a circle. In the middle he set dry leaves and grass. Then he used some of the branches to form a vertical triangle. Leaning in close, he struck the flint at an angle against the rock, like a person whittling. Several sparks flew as a result of the friction. The dry grass caught on the sparks and lit. The Prince carefully blew on the small flame, encouraging it to grow. Smirking in triumph, he turned to the boy who was starting at the flames in awe.

The childlike wonder on his face stopped any arrogant poke at his lack of skills. Setting up a smaller mound of rocks, Arthur regarded the slave, "here, your turn. I can't very well be seen doing a servants job in others company. You try."

Snapping out his wonder, the boy took the proffered stones in his hands and tried to imitate the Prince. It took a few tries, but eventually he got a spark to catch and lightly fanned it into a merry little blaze. A grin of accomplishment lit his face as he proudly gestured to the fire.

"I did it!"

"Good, now heat up the food."

Arthur watched as the slave complied with his orders, his mind drifting back to when he was a much younger child, and his father had brought him out and tried to teach him how to start a fire. _It had been a cool night, and Uther showed him once, before expecting him to do it on the first try. Little Arthur had tried, he really did, but he couldn't grip the large rock comfortably in his hands and strike with enough force to generate a spark. He remembered the sigh of disappointment, he remembered the feeling of failing, of letting his father down, and remembered how cold he felt that night regardless of the fire his father had started. He thought back to their return to the castle, and how the next day Sir Leon had taken him aside, having been with them (himself in training to be a knight), and whisper an almost slight bit of help. A few nights later, when Arthur was watching the knight go on night patrol, Sir Leon had waved him over and taken him aside. For the next hour he taught him what good kindling wood looked like, and how to arrange them most effectively, and how to grip his flint and the proper angle to strike them. He remembered his own grin and yelp as the fire had started. _

_He remembered the next time his Father had taken him out, and had him start a fire, he remembered the satisfied look on the King's face as Arthur was able to get it lit on just the second try. He remembered the first words he spoke, "that will do, for now. Soon you'll be able to do it on the first try." He remembered how his shoulders had sagged, it wasn't enough. He remembered how Sir Leon had crept over after the King had moved away and congratulated him. He remembered his vow to do better, to work even harder to gain his father's praise._

The Prince marveled at his enthusiasm at such a small thing; he nodded his acceptance of the boy before glancing at the camp. Chewing on his dinner, he allowed his mind to drift ever so slightly. Finishing, he sighed.

"We'll need to keep a watch-"

"I can do it, Sire."

"Really? Without falling asleep."

"Of course."

The slave's brow furrowed in indignation, the second guessing of his abilities an insult. The Prince regarded his thoughtfully for a moment before retrieving his sword. He presented it to the boy pommel first, the slave stared at the sword and back at the Prince, his blue eyes cloudy.

"Take it. If and only if the occasion arises, I give you permission to defend yourself and camp; however, wake me if anything seems suspicious, you're liable to stab yourself or me without any training."

The boy flushed at the accuracy of the Prince's statement. He shakily took the blade and set it within easy grasp as the blond settled down for the night. Closing his eyes, he evened out his breathing and pretended to fall asleep. The sky darkened to night and with it, the slave put out both fires, desiring not to alert anyone to their location with neither fire nor smoke.

The Prince's eyebrows rose in astonishment, he himself had forgotten to order the boy to put the fire, yet he had the presence of mind to do so. Keeping his eyes half closed, the Prince surreptitiously found a stone. Listening, he heard the boy rustling around, he lobbed the stone into the brush several feet away. The soft padding of the boy's feet as he crept over by the Prince. As his feet came into view, Arthur closed his eyes and regulated his breathing. Opening them to mere slits, he watched curiously as the boy held the sword ready, his hand hold awkward and inexperienced and his feet unbalanced. _He's lucky that wasn't a bandit. He'd be dead before he could bring up that sword._

Peering into the darkness, the boy stretched out his sense for what created the sound. Finding nothing of significance, he circled around their small encampment before he settled back on a log and pointed the tip of the sword in the dirt while he kept his hand on the pommel.

Throughout the night, the boy was alert to each of the smallest sounds of the forest. He was relieved as the sun crested over the mountains in the distance and creeping though the trees. Releasing a breath slowly, he set the sword down and approached the sleeping Prince. Bending on one knee he called out, "Sire! Prince Arthur!"

Prince Arthur jerked awake, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion. Upon catching sight of his latest attendant, he rolled away, to his knees in one smooth movement; his hand automatically gasping for his sword. The slave realized that the Prince was not in complete control of his faculties yet, so he waited, not moving so much as an inch. The blonde shook his head a little to clear the cobwebs and yawned. He stopped mid-yawn, glancing from the completely still slave to the position of the sun.

The dark haired boy started at a point just to the left so as not to meet his royal pratness eyes' He tried not to let the confusion show, he didn't understand why the Prince was so startled to realize that the sun was already rising. Clearing his throat, he caught his attention.

"My lord, it would be better if we leave so as to make it back to Camelot before the sun reaches it's apex."

"Yes, of course."

Nodding his permission, the slave gathered their few things and packed them up. Finding a small amount of bread and dried fruit, he set them on a small plate and handed it over to the still waking up Prince who took it without a word. Swallowing, the slave went back to his work. Once the Prince was finished he collected the plate and did a quick wipe before replacing it in it's proper place. Hefting the pack back up on his back, he held a hand to his stomach to attempt to muffle the grumbling. Wincing at a particularly sharp twinge of pain in his stomach, the slave took a deep breath through his nose and let it hiss slightly from his semi-parted lips.

"We will ned to head back through this path and follow it around parallel to the main road until we hit Camelot."

The farther they traveled the higher the sun rose in the morning sky. The higher the sun rose the hotter it got. Soon the humidity was so thick their backs were drenched in perspiration. A soft whinny drifted in a breeze, immediately Arthur was on guard. He stopped, listening for any sound of bandits or other persons.

"What are you- Hey!" Arthur hissed when the boy didn't stop as he had. The Prince darted forward to grab the slave when he stopped in surprise. The boy was holding the reins of one of the horses from their original camp. Arthur let out a laugh, "what luck!"

He ambled over and mounted the horse, taking the reins from the slave, he led them back towards Camelot.

They had been traveling for several hours when the Prince noted the boy falling farther and farther behind.

"Hurry up!"

The boy increased his speed at the Prince's command and within moments he was beside him once more. The gurgling of the boy's stomach broke the relative silence. Narrow shoulders hunched in response as one hand came up to rub his stomach.

"Hungry much?"

The slave didn't respond, choosing instead to focus on his footing which was becoming more unstable by the moment. _I don't think I can make it to Camelot._ The boy's feet stumbled over each other, causing his balance to be thrown off. With a yelp he went down and didn't make a move to get back up. Prince Arthur rolled his eyes at the melodramatics of the boy.

"It's only another two hours till we reach the city. Surely it's not too much to get back there?"

"Of-cou-course not, says the Prince who rides atop a horse."

The Prince sighed derisively, as he pulled the horse around to the boy's position. When the boy didn't move, the Prince dismounted and squatted down beside the boy. Frowning, he removed the pack from his shoulders, it flopped to the side with a dull thud. The slave still had not reacted to his lessened load. Exasperated, the Prince rolled the boy onto his back and gasped as he took inventory of the boy's countenance. An unhealthy flush tinted the boy's cheeks as his breaths came out in small pants, with a hint of a wheeze to it. A low grumbling directed his attention to the sunken stomach, causing his eyes to flicker back to the boy's face. Dark bruising marred the boy's under eyes, emphasizing his sunken face.

A new sense of urgency spurred the Prince into action, he grabbed a few items before tossing the pack into the brush where it might be retrieved at a later date. He struggled to load the boy on the saddle before he swung himself up and allowed the boy to slump against his front. Clucking to his horse, they started a slow walk before working up to a faster pace. Arthur knew that the added weight of the slave, however slight compared to himself, was still an extra burden on the horse and therefore not wise to push her too fast.

He gratefully sped through the forest,blurred in his peripheral vision. The gates of Camelot took longer than he would have preferred to appear. Within moments he was racing through the streets and up to the inner most court. Several town fold had to dash out of the way, their eyes wide as they saw the Prince allowing another to ride with him. A murmur of peasant talk rose the higher he went. Leaning back in his saddle, he lifted his feet from the flanks of the horse, "hooo."

Obediently, the horse slowed and came to a complete stop. Several guard and knights rushed forward to aid the Prince. Two dragged the slave off of the horse, while one held the horse in place, thus allowing the Prince to dismount. Arthur spies the squire from before and calls him over, "Daniel-"

"Samuel, Sire."

"Right, Samuel take, uh, him up to Gaius and see that he is taken care of."

"At once, my Lord."

Samuel drapes one arm around his shoulder and grunts at the effort, shifting he turns his head in surprise as his burden is lifted significantly. Angling his head he sees the Lady Morgana's maidservant hoist the slave up on the other side. Nodding his thanks they made their way slowly towards the Physician's room. On the way another manservant of Camelot saw them and took Gwen's place, this allowing her to run ahead to prepare Gaius. When the trio made it up to the room, the elderly man was waiting with door open his patient. Directing them to deposit him on the cot, he set about to work on brining down his fever. Placing a wet cloth on his brow, he checked for any obvious signs of injuries. Wetting another cloth, Gaius wiped the boy's neck of dirt, sweat and dried blood to determine the severity of the cut. Seeing the cut was fairly shallow, he wiped at it before applying a thin bandage so as to prevent infection.

Near an hour later, the door opened to admit a weary Prince.

"How is he, Gaius?"

"Severely dehydrated and malnourished. When was the last time you ate?"

"It was just this morning."

"And the boy?"

"Why, the same time as me, I suppose."

"You suppose? Did you actually see him eat or drink?"

"Well, no, but why wouldn't he?"

The Prince blinked in surprise as the older man seemed to sag before his eyes. With a weary sigh of his own, Gaius glanced towards his unconscious patient, before pulling out a large scroll from a shelf. Unrolling it quite a ways, he used his magnifying glass to find the paragraph he had previously read.

"According to the laws of Camelot (and other kingdoms) in regards to slavery-"

"-Which is illegal."

"Actually, Sire, that is not entirely true."

"What?! What do you mean, 'not entirely true'?"

"Forcing an innocent person into slavery; being born of a slave and thus 'born into slavery' are illegal; however, there is one provision in which it is legal. That of a debt slave. Incurring a monetary debt and being unable to repay said debt according to the terms of their agreement, the part who loaned the money has the option of collecting the money owed by either taking said person or persons as collateral until said party pays off the debt by working for that person; or the owning party may choose to sell that person to another party, in which the slave must then serve their new owner until they pay off what they paid or the original debt is satisfied."

Prince Arthur winced slightly as Gaius poked and prodded at his various cuts and bruising while he explained the obscure law. Blue eyes regarded the unconscious form in a new light.

"A debt-slave? I don't understand why this should be allowed."

"There must be some sort of way for the person loaning out money to be guaranteed that they receive a return on their contract. Can you imagine what would happen in people borrowed money and had no consequence if they didn't pay it back? There would be chaos. Now, I am not condoning this debt-slavery, but merely explaining the reasoning behind it."

"I do understand it better now, but that doesn't explain why the boy didn't eat or drink."

"The nature of a slave, debt or otherwise, is that everything they are and have belongs to their master. They must have permission for almost everything they do, which includes eating and drinking."

"That explains why I had to give him permission for weapons, but why didn't he saw anything?!"

Anger tinged his voice as he realized that the slave's condition was all his fault. _If I had bothered to look beyond my own nose, I would have noticed! Instead, he suffered in silence. How could he have possibly lasted so long? _The Prince gasped as he realized that as far as he knew, the boy hadn't had any nourishment since becoming his replacement. Arthur's face took a green tint as he felt his stomach roil at his disturbing thoughts.

"Gaius, I-I don't think he had anything to eat in the past several days."

He swayed where he stood as those thoughts raced through his brain at an alarming speed. He barely felt the wizened man's hand as it guided him down onto a bench nearby.

"Sire...Prince Arthur...ARTHUR!"

Sapphire eyes snapped to meet his, "Never fear. I happen to know that Gwen has made sure to get him something to eat at least twice a day. I suspect it has only been your trip, in which he didn't eat."

"I thought that as his 'master', I had to give him permission?"

"While that is true, in the hierarchy, even as a servant Gwen is of higher standing than the boy and therefore has dominance over him. He must obey you above all other servants, and his King obey above you."

The weight on the Prince's chest eased off slightly at the reassurances.

"That's still 2 days! 2 Days?!"

The weight settled back in place on his chest. He raised a hand, scrubbing his face. So weary, he didn't consciously realize Gaius had finished with him until he saw him move back over to the dark haired boy.

"He's so young to be forced into that. How could he have incurred any such debt at his age?"

"Young? Sire, he is but a year and a half to two years your junior."

"What? How can that be? Look at him, he's so small! So skinny."

"A result of his station, I would say."

The Prince leaned an elbow on the table, bringing his fist to his lips. He watched as the Physician wet a cloth before ringing it over the cracked lips of is patient, allowing several drops to help soothe the parched boy. Reflexively, the boy swallowed. He repeated the motion several times until he was satisfied with the amount the boy took in. A groaned escaped the boy as he shifted slightly, causing part of the blankets to fall, allowing Arthur to see the bandage wrapped around his ribcage. Sighing the boy settled back down, turning his head away from the eyes of the Prince.

"Did you know he stayed up all night on watch? I even offered a turn but he was adamant that he could handle it."

Gaius stared at the Prince, "In his state, I am surprised he made it as long as he did. He must have a remarkable amount of determination. Or stubbornness."

Prince Arthur didn't respond, his eyes focused on the young man. Wordlessly, he moved enough so that he could adjust the blanket back in place before he settle back on the bench. A few more moments passed, he could hear Gaius moving around.

"Gaius, how is he?"

Prince Arthur started at the female voice behind him. Turning he saw Morgana's maidservant in the doorway, her brow wrinkled in worry.

"He'll be fine, he just needs some rest and good food."

"Oh, thank God. Is there anything you need?"

"Actually, if you could bring lunch for Arthur and some broth and bread for the boy, I would be most appreciative."

"Of course, Gaius."

"Wait!"

Gwen turned back to the Prince who had called out to her, "Lunch will not be necessary. I will retire to my room. Just, just make sure he gets whatever he needs."

He ignored the surprise that widened her eyes. Getting up, he motioned for her to proceed him and left behind her. As he turned to close the door, he paused long enough to see Gaius continue to mop the slave's brow.

-0-000000-0-

It was several hours later that Prince Arthur once again found himself in the Physician's chambers. Opening the door, he saw it barely lit and Gaius no where in sight. Looking around he spied the lighter and used it to light candles throughout the room so he might better see. As soon as it was bright enough he saw the boy moving restlessly beneath the sheets. He moved closer, and saw the boy's lips moving to form words. Arthur leaned down in an attempt to decipher the reason for his unease. A low rasp was his only answer. Frowning, he looked about. Spying a shallow bowl of water and rag beside it, he picked them up. Almost as if the boy could sense it, he turned his head towards the Prince and licked his dry lips.

Awkwardly, the Prince laid the bowl in his lap and dipped the rag in it as he had seen the Physician do and ring it out over his mouth. Copious amounts of water splashed on the boy's face, some of which made it onto the lips and mouth. Eagerly, the slave swallowed and angled his head to get a better position. Arthur repeated the process several more times and the boy responded more and more each time. Finally the boy peeled his eyes open a little. The Prince froze, dripping cloth in hand.

"Er-"

"Death by drowning, is it? Seems a little of the top, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes you have been sentence to death by drowning; method of drowning? With a rag."

The boy squinted up at the Prince, his eyes finally finding the source of the dripping water.

"Ah, well, perhaps you were testing...a new method...?"

A sardonic eyebrow raise was his answer.

"I,uh, don't suppose there's more water for a drink?"

Prince Arthur stared blankly down at him until the words registered in his brain.

"Yes, of course."

He fumbled around for a cup once he found the water pitcher. Handing it over, he watched as the boy's shaking hand spilled a majority of it on himself with his poor aim.

"Looks more like you've sentence yourself to drowning."

Blushing, the slave moved to try again when he found himself relieved of the cup. The Prince moved forward, resting one knee on the cot, he shifted the boy up with one hand and used the other to tip the cup in his lips. Although the boy tried to gulp the water down, the Prince angled it so he couldn't.

"Careful, you'll get sick, er...sicker, if you drink too much at once.'

The slave leaned back slightly, so Arthur set the cup down and eased him back but still propped up slightly. The slave's wide eyes were on the Prince, who avoided them.

"So, um, er, what is you name?"

"My name?"

The Prince raised an eyebrow, _ Surely this isn't a difficult question. _He watched as a debate seemed to war internally.

"To be a slave, is to surrender one's name."

The boy sounded as though he were reciting some law. He bent his head as he turned his gaze to the blanket covering his torso and began to pick at the fabric. The slave's blue eyes were murky with some memory.

"What does your master call you?"

"Boy, slave, you, ingrate."

Arthur winced at the reply. He opened his mouth to say something but chocked it off as the boy continued.

"You are the first person to ask my name in a long time." The boy was whispering now.

"Really? How long?"

"About eleven years."

The blond Prince gasped, his mind churning with the very idea of someone not knowing his name and he couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"Wh-what did your mother call you?"

Even though there was a long pause, neither had heard the door open, or the Physician start to come in until he felt the atmosphere and wisely kept silent. The Prince waited, and waited. He waited until he could bear it no longer, he repeated the question.

"Merlin. My mother named me, Merlin."

A strangled gasp broke the moment and both sets of eyes swung around to see the white haired physician grasp his chest as he slumped backwards, inadvertently closing the door. The old man panted as he tried to draw breath.

"Gauis!"

The Prince skidded to a stop beside the fallen man, unsure of what to do. The physician's eyes were wide and fixated on the boy who was called Merlin.

"GAIUS!"

The yell echoed down the hallway and throughout that portion of the castle.

-0-

A/N: I do actually feel bad about this cliffie, as I had this already written before and it'll probably be two weeks before I update next. Don't kill me! What did you think?

H.D.S 10/20/12

...

To all my guest reviewers, I love you guys too and hope this is all turning out to your liking! You are so cool! I think I'll move my updates to Fridays, so watch for them Friday-Saturday(ish).


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Prayers out to those on the East Side getting pummeled by Hurricane Sandy. Stay strong!

Chapter 7

Merlin clumsily rolled out of bed, fighting with the blankets to release him. He made his way over on trembling legs, kneeling beside the elderly man. His blue eyes searched for the reason for his distress, nothing the wheezing, the trembling and most curious of all the watery eyes. Quickly, the boy noted the way he would tug on the collar of his tunic. The slave gently moved the one hand from the collar and used his own to try and loosen the fabric. When the fabric didn't relent, he turned to the Prince, "May I have permission for the use of your dagger?"

Dumbly, the Prince nodded his acquiescence and looked at the boy with a perplex frown.

"Your dagger, Sire!"

Arthur removed the concealed weapon from the inside of his boot and handed it over. Surprisingly deft hands sliced the top most portion, then handed it back before he rent the garment in two, nearly down to the physician's breastbone. With that accomplished, he grabbed one of the physician's hands and laid it on his own chest, "Breathe as I breathe."

Merlin slowed his own breathing to deep and slow intervals. Using his free hand, he laid it on Gaius' chest and felt the rapidly beating heart begin to slow to a more even pace. Gradually color began to come to his pallor and Prince Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever had happened to Gaius had deeply affected the Prince, who had never seen the old man look so feeble and vulnerable, he didn't like it.

"I should get him on the bed, " the slave murmured to himself. Taking care, he slung his arm over his shoulder and braced himself. _I must be getting stronger-oh. _The lack of resistance had less to do with his strength and more to do with the strong Prince on the other side, taking the brunt of the weight. Together they set him on the cot. Merlin lifted the old man's legs and straightened them on the bed. Glancing around, he spied the stairs; wobbling his way up them he found an unused cot situated in the room with a pillow on top. Grabbing it, he retreated back the way he came. With a bit of exertion, the skinny boy lifted the physician and propped him up with both pillows.

"I don't understand, why did he react so violently when he heard your name? Do you know Gaius?"

"No. Not that I can remember. Although…."

"What?"

"Gaius asked me the same question when we met."

Silence prevailed between the two for several more moments as they both watched the elderly man who seemed to have drifted off in slumber.

"…is he going to be alright?"

"I-I don't know. He doesn't seem to have a fever or anything."

-0-0-0-

"Gaius, I brought some dinner." The maidservant paused tray in hand as she took in the strange sight before her. The Prince was on one side of an unconscious Gaius and the slave on the other. Hurrying forward, she placed the tray on the table and knelt beside the slave, taking gone of Gaius' hands in hers.

"What happened? Why is Gaius on the bed?" Tears prickled at her warm brown eyes.

"We are no sure, he had some sort of pain in his chest and collapsed." The slave replied after sneaking a glance at the Prince to see if he would answer.

"What can I do to help?"

"Um, fresh w-water?" The salve answered hesitantly.

Hastily Gwen leap to her feet and grabbed the bucket on her way out, once again leaving the two young men to themselves. The Prince peered out the window and realized he was late for dining with the King. He signed as he got to his feet.

"I must go. Please do what you can for Gaius, and don't forget to eat. I can not have my servant _fainting_ on me."

The boy blinked owlishly up at him, before dipping his head respectfully, "Yes, Sire. Goodnight my lord."

The Prince was almost to the door when the boy heard his soft reply, "Goodnight, Merlin."

Arthur missed the stunned look that froze the boy's face, he missed as it slowly changed to a small smile; he missed as it bloomed into a dazzling open and honest grin; he missed as tears of relief dripped from his now vivid blue yes; he missed the trembling shoulders as emotion wracked his tiny body.

-0-0-0-

Prince Arthur entered the hall to find an irritated father, bored adopted sister and aloof visiting king.

"You're late."

"I apologize Sire, I was with Gaius when he collapsed in distress."

Uther half arose out of his seat, "What ails him?"

"I am unsure, he does not have any obvious signs of trauma."

"Where is he now?"

"He is resting in his chambers, I left Merlin with him."

A dull clang rang, Prince Arthur's attention shifted to King Severus. Wine sloshed over the side of his goblet as he slammed it down with force. Immediately his attendant set to mopping up the spill and refilled his cup before he back out of the way and back into the shadows.

When there was no further commotion from that side, the Prince tried to ignore the dark look upon the King's face, choosing instead to focus on his Father. Arthur felt eyes boring into him but he refused to look around.

"Very well, come, eat with us."

The Prince bowed and took his seat next to Severus, on Uther's right side. The rest of the meal passed in relative quiet, with Uther conversing with Severus and occasionally Arthur. Morgana seemed more content to eat in silence, keeping her eyes on her food. She was the first to excuse herself, followed shortly thereafter by Uther. Finding himself alone with their visitor for the fist time since his arrival, the Prince scrambled for a topic.

"I understand you are quite handy with a sword."

The question gratefully brought Arthur from his musings. He turned more fully towards the King.

"I have won several of our tournaments and I will be entering the tournament prior to my coronation. Perhaps you will be here for the celebrations?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss such an event. Were that I had a son, I imagine that he would be a great warrior such as yourself."

Arthur smiled at the sincere words of the King, he had heard that the King and Queen had no heir to the throne.

"Then I shall endeavor to impress you with my skills at the tournament."

King Severus laughed, clapping his hands on the boy's shoulder. Their conversation flowed easily between the two for the remainder of time together. Bidding him farewell, the Prince made his way back towards Gaius' chambers, his mind whirling at the conversation he just had.

Once more he felt as though someone were attempting to bore a hole in his back. Casually he looked over his shoulder but he could see no one, only the flickering of shadows when a breeze would cause the torches to waver. Shrugging, he continued on his way, but he made sure to keep his stance relaxed. There was something going on. Something he didn't like.

Approaching the door he heard his Father's voice, he paused at the door waiting for an appropriate moment to enter. Knocking, he waited a second before pushing the door open. He saw his Father sitting at the physician's bedside, speaking in low tones. Arthur stopped in confusion, _Where's Merlin?_ Turning, the Prince checked the room but couldn't spot the boy. Running a hand through his hair, he moved to exit, intent on searching for the missing slave. Years of training had him moving before he could consciously think about it.

Moving to draw his sword, his hand stayed as his brain caught up to his instincts. Melting from the shadows to his right, just beyond the opened door was the slave. Arthur cursed whoever had given the boy the dark clothing. The small patches of skin not covered seemed to glow an eerie white against the black.

"My lord?"

Arthur frowned as he looked at the boy, bruising was coming to the surface, a red scratch on his prominent cheekbone. With his head bowed, and eyes focused on the ground the Prince was only able to read his mood by his body language. His hunched shoulders spoke louder than Merlin's voice would ever carry.

"Have you eaten?"

Somehow the boy was able to tense further as he turned his head ever so slightly towards the King, and where the food was.

"I had enough." _Errrullllllllllllll_

Color burned on the boy's cheeks. Arthur arched an eyebrow, "It would seem that your body disagrees with you."

Merlin turned his head away from the King, Prince and the food. With a sigh, the Prince stepped away from the boy and over to the table. Glancing at the two bowls and plates, he picked up the bowl with the most food still in it. He looked towards Gaius who was listening to his Father, he was able to catch his eyes and motioned to the food and Merlin. A soft smile touched the old man's lips as he understood and nodded ever so slightly. Careful not to draw his father's attention he carried the bowl back to the unmoved slave.

"Here, eat this, but don't let my see you."

"Why?"

"Because he wouldn't approve of servant eating in his presence."

"No, why are you doing this?"

"Just looking at you makes me hungry. You're so skinny. I almost look fat next to you."

"So, you're trying to stave off attacking and eating me to using as a toothpick as some sort of bizarre weight loss diet?"

"Ye—wait, what?"

Arthur's confusion was rewarded with a grin, and he found the transformation shocking. He had seen the boy smirk, frown and unaffected but he couldn't remember seeing him so unguarded. The slave's eyes were fixed on the bowl he still held. Glancing over the slave's shoulder, he passed it into the boy's hands and tried not to grimace as he devoured the contents.

"Arthur?"

The slave's eyes widened in horror as he heard the King's voice a lot close than it should have been. With his back to the king, the slave pushed the now empty bowl and spoon into the startled Prince's hands and averted his gaze once more. Merlin stepped backwards so that his back came to rest against the door, allowing the King full access to his son.

Clearing his throat, the Prince's gaze shifted from his Father to the bowl in hand, "Uh, I was still a little hungry so I was just grabbing something to eat."

"If you were really that hungry you should have sent the slave to the kitchens for something. There's no reason to have to force yourself to eat….._that_."

Flushing, the Prince tilted his head up and turned to the slave.

"You heard him, go fetch me a plate from the kitchens."

He tossed the bowl carelessly at the boy, who fumbled to catch it. Bowing the boy left to do his bidding, grateful to be out from under the King's gaze.

"Gaius seems to believe he should be fine after a days rest but I am no so sure he can handle his current amount of work."

"Why don't we have Merlin assist Gaius when he is not working for me?" At Uther's blank stare, Arthur clarified, "The slave."

"You would trust a slave with such a task?"

"He seemed to know something about healing when we were attacked. I doubt Gaius would give him anything of importance."

Uther turned to Gaius who had propped himself back up with the pillows.

"Gaius, you are in need of help, an assistant, while you recover. Arthur has offered the services of the slave. Will that be acceptable?"

Startled eyes sought out the Prince's, who nodded in affirmation. The physician cleared his throat, and with suspiciously watery blue eyes, "That would be acceptable, thank you my lord."

Satisfied that everything was sorted out to his liking, the King left. Arthur turned to examine the shelves, so as to allow the physician a moment of peace to collect himself. The soft steps of a person approaching gained the Prince's attention. In came the slave with a full plate of meat, vegetables, and bread. With bowed head, he presented the food to his current master. The Prince exasperatedly shook his head.

"I am not hungry."

"But-then—why did you have me get this?"

"To appease my Father, clearly. Tell you what, why don't you have it and if Gaius is up to it maybe share some of it. Ah, speaking of Gaius."

The Prince put his hands on the slave's shoulders, ignoring his flinch, and carefully turned him around to face the older man.

"When you are not serving me you will be under Gaius' services as his assistant; helping him with whatever he needs, is that understood?"

Dazedly, Merlin nodded.

"Good. I can get myself ready to retire but I expect you to be back in my chambers tomorrow morning."

"Yes Sire."

"Good. Oh, and Merlin?"

The Prince waited until he had the boy's eye contact.

"I expect that plate to be picked clean. I will not have it go to waste."

He was rewarded with a vigorous nod. The Prince spun on his heel and started down the steps. Merlin just blinked after him. _Wait!_

"Sire!"

The Prince halted at the top of the steps; he turned back towards the boy who flushed at his outburst.

"Si-Sire, if I may inquire as to where shall I sleep?"

Startled, Arthur racked his brain, "Uh where have you been sleeping?"

"Before the patrol, that was the dungeon."

"Well that won't due."

"I have a spare room he could use."

Both now turned to see Gaius back on his feet, his hands clasped in front. Merlin tried to school his features but Arthur saw the hope light his eyes. Nodding in approval he turned back to return to his own chambers. As he stepped down, his foot hit something slippery. His arms windmilled as he fought for balance, a cry of surprise torn from his throat. He jerked to a stop and fell against something softer than stone; his ears ringing as he saw the plate tumble down the very steps as he should have. Arthur took a moment to steady his breathing; as he became more aware of his surroundings he felt a vice like grip as a thin arm wrapped around his chest, while another was across his shoulders.

With wide eyes, he looked over his shoulder into equally wide eyes. Faintly, he realized that the slave seemed more afraid than he was. He could feel the slave's heart racing through the thin material of the boy's shirt. Feeling his face burn with embarrassment, Merlin abruptly let go. Not having braced himself properly, Arthur yelped as he started to slide down, causing the slave to grasp him by the upper arm until he regained his footing.

Bracing himself, the Prince stretched his foot out to the step below where he had slipped. Allowing part of his weight on it, he let the slave keep a hold until he was sure that he was OK. Nodding to the boy, Arthur carefully made his way down the steps.

"Clean that up before someone else falls down, Merlin. I will have another plate sent up."

"That is not necessary, Sire."

The Prince looked up to see the boy was already crouching down with a large cloth in hand. Dumbfounded, he watched as he carefully picked up each piece of the remnants of his dinner, wiping it off. Sometimes he would just pop it in his mouth or placing it in the cloth.

"But-but, it was on the floor. It's _dirty_."

"That is why I wiped it off."

Shaking his head, the Prince left the pair and went back to his chambers.

"Here I will take that, Merlin."

Gaius moved to help the boy, but Merlin shook his head in protest.

"No, no, you should be resting. I will take care of it."

"Nonsense boy, I am not _that_ feeble that I can not carry food."

When the slave continued to hesitate, he pushed, "I insist."

Merlin reluctantly handed over the cloth with the food in it. He retreated back into the room, and grabbed a dirty cloth before going back to clean up the water.

"Next time you should take care, you are lucky the King was not here. Had it happened in his presence you would have been severely punished. Always clean a spill up immediately."

"I didn't spill anything. I didn't-I-I only brought up the plate of food."

Merlin watched in fascination as the older man raised a bushy eyebrow impossibly high. _I have got to try that! _

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The slave moved to wipe up the spill when he paused, "Gaius?"

"Hmm?"

"How is it that neither Uther or I did not slip; only Arthur? I sweat it was not there when I left and came back."

"Curious."

"That's strange," Merlin mumbled.

"What?"

"Look, the water has a strange sheen to it."

Gaius peered closer, squinting.

"Can you get my magnifying glass? It is on the table."

A moment later, the boy returned and handed it over. Gaius studied intently, dipping a finger in it and rubbing it against his forefinger before bringing it up so he could sniff it cautiously.

"This is not just water, it has been tainted with something. Whatever the compound, it has made it more slippery. This was no accident."

"Why?"

"Surely not the King, as he left without incident. No, this was either for you or for Arthur."

Merlin looked around automatically, never had the shadows seemed more menacing, "Someone is trying to kill Arthur?!"

-0-

As if someone isn't ALWAYS trying to kill Arthur, so technically I don't count that as a cliffy….right?

Please Read and a Review, and as an added bonus as mentioned before, I will be updating once a week for the next few weeks as I am ahead of schedule since I broke the chapter apart due to it's size. :-D!


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"What do we do?" Merlin asked in alarm.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?! But-"

"What would you tell the King? We found a water mixture on a stair, ergo, someone is trying to kill the Prince."

_Ok, so it does sound daft when he says it like that._ Sighing, Merlin wiped up the remainder of the mess once they had sufficient samples for Gaius' experiments, before he went down the steps to pick up the fallen plate. He jogged up the steps to find Gaius had returned to bed, a thoughtful look tugging at his forehead.

"I think I will retire for the night, your bed is up those steps, where you'll find a blanket. Oh, here."

The older man handed the boy the extra pillow they had used with which to prop him up. Merlin took it and grabbed the food as he went up to his temporary quarters. Steeling himself, he opened the door and looked around in amazement. There was a cot, a table, a cabinet, bedding and even a window. _Wow, all this?_ He sat down at the edge of the cot, marveling as it gave way ever so slightly. Toeing off his boots, he positioned himself on the bed with the pillow under his head and sighed softly as he relaxed and allowed himself to sink into sleep.

_Prince Arthur was walking beside him, his voice washing over him. He raised his hands as he gestured wildly, reenacting some sort of battle. The background blurred from a brightly lit field to the inside of the great hall. The sounds of dozens of voices all talking at the same time nearly knocked Merlin over. Clamping his hands over his ears, he turned back to Arthur, he froze. _What-? Where did he go?

_Spinning around in a circle, Merlin looked over the heads of the nobles, trying to find any sign of the Prince. He shouldered his way past the King's war, past some knight, he dodged a servant balancing a tray in his hand._

"Arthur!?"

_His shout wasn't heard above the voices clamoring around him. The slave ran up to the dais' and jumped on the table. Looking out at the sea of richly dressed royals, he saw the flash of a red coat. Focusing, he saw the Prince as he walks slowly towards the back of the hall, all around him people dodged around him._

"Prince Arthur!"

_The slave leapt from the table and dashed after the Prince. He pushed at anyone who blocked his path, he ignored the servants, the knights, the royals, he ignored them as he raced around. He caught another glimpse of the red coast as it neared the hall doors. The Prince passed out of them and stopped just behind it. Merlin, himself had almost reached the doors when pain speared him from his neck and raced down his spine. He lost all feeling of his body as he tumbled to the floor. The great hall doors closed as he fell, the last image of the Prince he saw between the cracks was the painful arc as the Prince fell backwards into waiting arms. _

_The door slammed shut, echoing around the hall as all other sounds ceased._

"Nooo...NO!"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Merlin sat up with a start, black spots danced in his eyes. Swaying, he braced himself with one hand as he waited for his blood to catch up with his body. Quickly, the boy leapt out of bed and hurried down the stairs. Noticing the chill in the room, Merlin tossed several logs and fumbled with the stones before he was able to light the wood. Peering over at the still sleeping Physician, he pulled up the blankets so that the was completely covered. Opening the door he jumped back in surprise.

"Gwen!"

Relieving her of the plates and bowls she had somehow managed to balance in her arms, he moved back to allow her inside. Shuffling around the girl, he quietly laid out the good before turning back to her.

"How is he?"

Tugging at his ebony neckerchief, "he seems to be getting better. Im sorry Gwen, but I really have to go."

"Wait. Here."

Merlin snatched the tossed bread and cheese, rewarding her with a bright smile before he dashed out the door and down the stairs.

0-0-0-0-0

An hour later, Merlin made his way slowly down to the kitchens, only wincing as he pushed open the heavy door. Inside women everywhere were rushing around, each with a specific task in mind. With quick steps the slave moved to the part of the room which was reserved for the upper class food. Snagging a plate, he filled it with even portions of vegetables, fruit, grain and a smaller portion of meat. Satisfied, he balanced the plate as he tried to open the door. It stubbornly didn't budge. He pushed against it but still it didn't move.

"Here, love, let me get that for you."

A sturdy woman reached past him and with a flick of her hand the door swung open. Mouth slightly ajar, Merlin looked over at her, "Wow, thank you!" She held it open as he shuffled through. Concerned eyes followed the boy as he limped his way to the Prince's chambers.

Shouldering open the door, he entered to find the Prince still sound asleep. Leaving the food on the table, he limped over to the bed.

"Sire?"

The Prince didn't even move. The slave reached out a hand and tapped him on the shoulder. No answer. Frowning, the boy shook his shoulder; the Prince snapped his arm up as if trying to shoo something away, Merlin had to dodge the arm. Thinking he had accomplished his goal, he picked up the pitcher and filled his glass with water. When he didn't hear the tall tale sounds of rustling sheets, he peered over his shoulder to find the Prince sprawled on his stomach. _That lazy...Prince!_

Scowling, the boy looked around the chambers. _No, not long enough; too sharp; ah...just right. _ Fingering the handle, he turned it over so that the blunt end was pointed at the Prince. Quietly, he crept up to the Prince's bedside armed with a broom in hand. He crouched behind the armoire, next to the bed and leaned around it, extending his arm to se the broom to poke Arthur's exposed back. He pulled back as the blonde grunted, before burying his head deeper into the pillow.

_Alright, you asked for it. _ He poked the Prince several times, incessantly. Pulling back, he wasn't fast enough as the Prince reached around, snagging the stick and easily pulling from his weak grasp. He threw it away from him, it hit a bed post, snapping it in half. Wide eyed, the slave gulped. Thoroughly frustrated, he blew his bangs out of his eyes. Pursing his lips, he got up and marched determinedly to the window, looking back as if giving one last chance to the slumbering Prince.

Taking a deep breath, the slave threw open the curtains, "Rise and shine your _high_ness! Oh, what a_ beautiful_ day, Sire. _Look_ the sun is _shining,_ the birds are singing."

"Argh!"

A pillow bounced off Merlin's face, courtesy of the irate Prince.

"Now, now my Lord, you have a busy day. You-must-get-up-and-eat."

The slave emphasized his point by pulling the sheet off of the Prince who tried to hold onto them and his dreams. Merlin braced himself with one foot on the bed frame and pulled with all his strength. They each tugged at the sheet until the boy's stomach reminded him of breakfast and then the Prince let go. With a yelp, the slave careened backwards with a thud; pulling all the bedding off with him.

Tutting loudly, Arthur sat down at the table and helped himself to the food, "You do realize, those will need to be washed now."

He smirked as he bit into a chunk of cheese.

"Oh, I was going to wash these anyways, whew!"

The slave dangled a corner of the sheet between two fingers, while using his other hand to plug his nose.

"I beg your pardon! I do NOT _smell._"

"There's no need to beg, Sire. Ohhh, is this one of those things you don't mention to royalty?"

Merlin adopted an innocent face and nodded sagely.

"What do you mean, one of _those_ things?"

"Uh, nothing. Nothing." He held up his hands in surrender.

"Are you patronizing me?"

"I am sure that if I knew what that meant I would be saying: no, my lord."

Arthur smirked as he set the bread, "Oh, allow me to define it for you. To _patronize_ someone is to...well, it's the same thing as helping."

"Helping? Well, why did you not just say that?"

"I did, just with a different word."

Rolling his eyes, Merlin grabbed the bedding and headed for the door.

"Once you are done with that, meet me at the training field, you King wants a demonstration of he can expect at the tournament. The mention of his Master's name felt like a large stone was dropped in his stomach; slowly sinking to the bottom. With a shallow bow, he backed out of the room. With arms full, the slave tried to navigate his way through the halls, every once in while peering out the side, around the linens. Other servants hurried on their way and the slave averted his eyes when they neared him.

Too intent was he on avoiding eyes that he failed to turn at the proper place and walked straight into a wall. His hands and arms tingled at the impact. Swearing under his breath, he righted himself an bent to retrieve a fallen sheet when he hit the wall. Groaning, Merlin lifted a hand to his throbbing head. Blinking, he saw the highly polished boots of a Camelot knight.

"You should watch where you are going, _slave."_

"Yes sire, sorry sire."

Merlin kept his head down, not moving from his fallen position. He waited. The knight didn't move. Gulping nervously, the slave risked a quick glance towards the knight. Merlin's head snapped to the side, pain radiating down his already sore neck. He felt a trickle of blood meander its way from the corner of his mouth, down to his chin.

"My Father had slaves."

A chill raced down the fallen boy's back at his revelation. A sense of foreboding throbbed in his temples.

"_They_ knew their place. We were fine, but one of them thought they were better than their station; he wanted the same privileges as the family. He thought he _deserved _better."

His hand buried itself in the slave's unruly locks and pulled the boy's face near his.

"Now, you don't believe that, do you? You may have the privilege of serving our Prince but make no mistake. You are worthless and don't even warrant the kindness our Prince has shown you by allowing you to accompany on his patrols. To ride on _his _ horse _with _ him."

Merlin groaned as the knight pulled him by his hair even further, "No-no sir."

"My Lord. You will address me as _my Lord."_

"I am sorry sir, but under the laws it would be treasonous to call any but royalty by tha-"

"Are you refusing me, whelp?!"

"No Sir, well, yes Sir. Please-"

The knight's hand moved him his hair to grip the boy's jaw painfully tight.

"_What do you think you are doing?! Unhand him at once!"_

The hand released its hold immediately causing the boy to slump back to the ground. Rustling robes spoke of the man standing to face his challenger. The soft swishing of many layers of fine cloth punctuated by the sharp clacking of high heels.

"Lady Morgana, I was merely teaching the slave his place."

"Oh, of course, now let me teach you, yours. Leave us. _Now."_

A pregnant pause followed her orders before the knight tipped his head, "As you wish."

Merlin flinched as the knight passed by him, his cape slapping him int he face. The boy remained where he was, waiting for the King's Ward to also pass by him; so he was surprised when her shoes came to rest in front of him. Tanned hands entered his line of vision gathering the fallen linens into her hands. Automatically the slave took the bundle from her with a quiet, "Thanks."

"You're bleeding."

The slave twitched at the soft concern of the Lady Morgana. Folds of silky fabric fell in soft waves as she knelt down, reaching one hand to cup his chin. She gently tilted it up, inspecting the damage. Her eyes darkened in anger as she saw the blood trailing down his chin.

"You should see Gaius."

"Thank you, my Lady, but it is not necessary. It is not that bad."

He studiously stared down at the linens in his hand.

"Why will you not look at me?"

"I am unworthy to look upon such a beautiful woman."

Morgana blinked at his honest yet sweet reply. Her eyes searched the boy's face for any sense of guile but his eyes were clear and honest. Her cheeks turned a little pink. She released her hold on him and slowly stood.

"Please rise."

The slave did as she commanded, gathering his feet beneath him and stood. With eyes averted, he waited her next order. She reached into her dress and removed a handkerchief, which she laid on top of the mound in his arms.

"At least use this to clean up."

"Thank you, my Lady."

With sad eyes, she bid Gwen ahead and left the boy where he stood; understanding that he would not be able to finish his work until she were gone. Just before she round the corner she glanced back and saw the boy finger the fine ilk with respect and reverence. A smile graced her features as she turned on her way.

Merlin dropped off the laundry and was making his way back towards the training field when he passed Gwen in the hallway. He smiled at her when she said hello before continuing on her way.

"Gwen! Oh, Gwen thank goodness I found you!"

A young maid came running down waving her arms frantically. Her face flushed with stress.

"Sara, whatever is the matter?"

"It is Bethia! She was taking food to King Severus and she hasn't come back! So I though maybe she had stopped by David's, you know how they are sweet on each other, and well, she has done it in the past-"

"Sara! What. Is. Wrong?"

"She's still in his chambers! And I heard crying and -oh-I am so worried, I did not know what to do. Please help!"

Merlin broke into a run, dread freezing the blood in his veins. Behind him, he could hear the two young women hurrying after him. Soon, he was much farther ahead. Approaching the doors, he slowed down to a brisk walk. Taking a breath, he knocked as was custom before opening the doors. Immediately he sought the source of the sobbing and found it. With her back pressed against the side of the bed, her arms crossed protectively over her chest was a young maid with soft blonde hair in disarray. Part of her dress was ripped at the shoulder. She gasped, and looked up, her eyes red rimmed from crying.

Holding his hands up in peace, he took several steps in her direction but in a wide circle around her.

"Bethia, is it?"

Her sobbing softened into hiccups at the slaves soft voice, but her arms tightened around herself.

"Is the King here?"

She barely moved her head, instead choosing to allow her eyes to dart around, allowing her to keep track of the boy.

"No. Som-someone came to get him."

Her body trembled as the tears welled up in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks.

"Bethia!"

Merlin flinched as Gwen skidded to a halt beside the girl and gathered her up in her arms.

"Gwen."

Holding the girl in her arms and rocking her gently seemed to soothe her. Gwen looked up questioningly at the boy who motioned to the softly crying girl.

"We need to get her our of here before he returns. Is she injured? Can she stand?"

Nodding, she murmured quietly into Bethia's ear. Sniffling, the girl nodded. Holding tight to Gwen, she rose on shaky legs, trying to move forward. Her legs collapsed beneath her, forcing Gwen to hold her up.

"Bethia, if it is alright with you, I can carry you." Merlin offered.

The blonde shrank back a little and turned to Gwen, a question in her eyes.

"It is OK. He is really nice and wont hurt you."

Turning her head, Bethia nodded. Merlin kept his hands up so she could see what he was doing as he knelt beside her.

"Ok, now Bethia, I am going to put one arm under your knees, and the other behind your back. Are you ready?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, she nodded quickly. He pulled her into his arms and with slow movements stood, eliciting a soft gasp from the girl.

"Are you OK?"

He felt her nod against his shoulder.

"If it helps, you can put your arms around my neck. Do you want to go to Gaius' for treatment?"

Frantically she shook her head, as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck; burrowing into his hold.

"Do you want him to take you home?" Gwen asked.

Bethia nodded.

"OK, here we go." Merlin warned her as he turned towards the door, pausing to allow Sara to open the door she had previously closed for privacy when she and Gwen had arrived. He nodded his thanks, he exited and waited for the girls to follow him out and secure the door.

"I will let Jon know she's going home," Gwen said.

"Gwen!" Merlin called before she left, "make sure that no serving girls are assigned to him. If requested relay the request to a male servant. No one is to be alone with him. _ Please._"

Her eyes flickered to the still trembling girl, hardening at the sight of the distressed girl. She nodded.

Merlin turned to Sara, "Do you know where she lives?"

"I do. It is in the mid level." She led him out towards the city.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Gwen nearly bumped into Morgana as she made her way to the Servant's Coordinator.

"Oh, there you are."

Gwen courtesied, "I apologize, my Lady that I wasn't around to attend to you."

"Was that the slave?"

The servant noticed her gaze fixated over her shoulder.

"Yes. There was an incident he as helping with."

"What sort of incident?"

Gwen bit her lip, her eyes flickering from her mistress' gaze to the ground.

"I do not wish to cause problems-"

"Gwen, if there's a problem and I can help then it is my duty to do so."

"One of the serving girls was attacked."

Morgana gasped, "What? Who was it? Can she identify him?"

"She can, but my Lady, it would not matter."

"Of course it matters! We can not let this go unpunished!"

"My Lady, you do not understand. It was the King."

Her hand flew to her mouth, horror written into every line of her face, "Uther?!"

"What? Oh, no, no; the visiting King."

Breathing out slowly, Morgana calmed her racing heart as her mind churned the information.

"You are right, Uther would never believe the word of a serving girl, but we must do something. Gwen, do not allow any maids to attend him. That pig!"

"Yes, my Lady. I was just on my way to let the Coordinator know."

The Lady Morgana nodded approvingly, "I shall accompany you to make sure he understands the severity of this. By the way, where is she now? With Gaius?"

"No. He is taking her home."

"He?"

"The slave."

0-0-0-0-0-0

"Where have you been?"

Arthur hissed as he jerked Merlin's arm when he finally made his appearance. Panting, the boy rested his hands on his knees as he huffed out, "Helped...Gwen."

"Well, you were supposed to be helping _me._"

"Yes, my Lord, Sorry my Lord; won't happend again, Sire."

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at the excessive submissive nature of his apology. Confused, he continued to stare at the boy as he hunched in on himself as heavy footsteps approached. A movement caught his eye, glancing down, he noted Merlin's right hand clenched tightly, so tight it was white knuckled. With an obvious effort the boy relaxed his hand with a shake and hid it behind his back.

Merlin's head snapped to the side, a red flush immediately staining his cheek. Arthur looked from the slave to the still extended him.

"Wha-why did you do that, my Lord?"

King Severus lowered his hand, "discipling him, of course, Arthur. He has gotten lax since coming to Camelot. I aim to rectify this, immediately."

"Of...course." Prince Arthur tried not to draw attention to the slave, whose eyes had darted to his in that brief second.

"However, seeing as it was I he has wronged, I wonder if you would allow me the...pleasure of teaching him the lesson?"

The King eyed the Prince speculatively, who straightened in response; his shoulders squared ad head held aloft.

"Very well, in the mean time; _assume the position."_

Without a word, Merlin sunk to his knees, keeping his back straight, head bent and knees at a 90 degree angle.

"Now, shall we continue, Arthur?"

They returned to the field, swords in hand. Sunlight glinted off their chain-mail, causing the illusion of glittering lights. They danced around each other, each probing the other for weakness. They traded blows, Arthur gaining the high ground and then loosing it moments later. They battled long after their tunics became saturated in sweat. The match ended when Arthur swiped the King's feet from beneath him, sword at his neck. The defeated King relinquished his hold on the sword; instead grasped the hand the Prince offered allowing him to be pulled to his feet.

"That was some impressive swordsmanship; your footwork is excellent."

Arthur beamed at the praise bestowed so generously by Uther's friend.

"Thank you Sire. I think you could give my Father a run for his money."

The proud smile adorning the King's face slipped slightly.

"Oh, that won't do. I shall endeavor to improve myself for just such a match."

Arthur nodded approvingly, eyes coming to rest on Merlin, who sat in the same exact position from some time ago. His attention returned to the visiting King as he felt his hand clasp his shoulder, the smile once more tugging at his lips as he conversation turned to various techniques of sword fighting and the merits of hand to hand combat.

The small crowd that had gathered to watch the match gradually left, Knights going back tot heir training, servants cleaning up after the fight and squires spoke amongst themselves critiquing the moves they saw.

"See, I told you he is the best."

Merlin tried no to react to the sudden appearance of Sam. His slight movement was caught by the King.

"Hey, did you hear me?"

Sam stood in front of the slave, bending over slightly in an attempt to catch his eye and elicit a response. Merlin kept his head down as was custom but he took the initiative to press his lips together and try to motion with his eyes. The young squire didn't understand. He waved his hand in front of the slave's face.

"Stop. _Please."_

With lips barely moving, the slave whispered the two short words.

"What?" The boy leaned in to hear but never got the chance. The King was on the slave in seconds, having heard the boy and knew his slave had tried to communicate with him.

"Five lashes should teach you to _hold your tongue!"_ His hand fisted in the slave's hair, jerking his neck back daring the boy to look into his eyes as was instinct.

Sam gasped, staggering back as the realization that his actions brought punishment to the slave. The squire bumped off something from behind and he turned to see the Prince there, his face impassive. The boy opened his mouth to plead for help but choked on the words.

"Your highness."

Arthur's words caused the King to pause.

"I would like to ask for a favor, a pardon, on behalf of the slave. It was through the fault of our squire and his ignorance of the laws that caused this infraction."

"As a favor to the Prince, I will overlook it. Show your gratitude."

Merlin prostrated himself before the Prince, "Thank you, my Lord." His forehead was pressed into the dirt. When the slave made no move to get up, Arthur cleared his throat nervously, "Uh, that will do. You may get up."

The slave resumed his previous position. King Severus bid the Prince farewell and left the small crowd to get ready for the trade negotiations.

"Get back to work," Prince Arthur barked at any remaining loitering servants. Once satisfied that the gawkers were gone, he placed a hand lightly on the slave's shoulder, "You can stop now, Merlin."

The boy peeked up from beneath his bangs for the King. Not seeing him, the boy relaxed his muscles, which gave out. His legs spasmed with the effort.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? What were you doing? All you had to do was drop off the laundry? But, no, you had to dilly dally about. This has earned you a day in the stocks."

The slave looked up from his position, fear in his eyes. He cried out, his hands immediately going to his calf muscle. Arthur could see the the muscle clenched beneath the thin fabric.

"Knead it." Arthur called to him, Merlin stared at him incomprehensibly. The Prince grabbed his hands and dug furiously with it, "Continue to work the muscle. Here, brace your foot against my shoulder and push your heel against it."

The boy complied, his hands digging and rubbing the calf as he stretched his leg out at the Prince's command.

"Come on, don't be such a girl. It is just a cramp."

The slave forgot himself long enough to glare at the Prince, who simply smirked in response. Merlin used his propped up foot to push harder than before causing the Prince to fall backwards on his royal behind. Triumph froze on the slave's face, melting into horror. Eyes wide, the slave stared at the Prince who stared back, shocked.

"Enough mollycoddling, get up."

The slave scrambled to his feet, wincing as his one leg protested.

"Don't favor your leg, it will only teach it to get used to it and then you will be even more clumsy."

"Me? What about your foot work? Must be embarrassing being a push to a slave."

"Push over? Hang on!"

Footsteps sounded just behind the slave as a knight passed on his way to join a trio off to the side. The slave's mouth snapped shut and he ducked his head. Arthur glanced from the slave to the knight. He sighed heavily, motioning with his head, "Let's get back to my chambers, I want to get out of this armor.

_What is wrong with me? If the Master had seen that...I need to keep my mouth shut._ The walk back was a quiet one as the slave resolutely kept his mouth shut. The Prince led the way, his mind churning. He ignored the servants who bowed as their paused to show respect before continuing on their way. Most gave the pair a wide berth, including the servants of Ulbein. A grunt followed by a thud dragged him from his musings.

"Idiot."

A servant was standing over the fallen slave, an angry scowl marring his face. He had honey colored hair, dark blue eyes aimed at Merlin. The servant snorted derisively before moving past Merlin, his foot shot out, hitting the boy's shin as he went.

"_Must_ you be so clumsy?"

"Sorry, Sire."

The Prince continued up to his chambers and paused allowing Merlin to grab the door. Once inside, Arthur put his arms out to allow Merlin better access. Licking his lips, the boy approached and with fumbling fingers managed to unbuckle the shoulder protection and slip it off. Arthur removed the belt from around his wait before holding his hands above his head. The boy lifted the chain-mail from the bottom and pulled it up, grunting at the weight of it. Arthur frowned when he didn't feel the metal being pulled off his shoulders and over his head. Frowning, he turned with his hands still raised, "What are you doing? I can't stand around like this all day. Hurry up!"

"Yes Sire."

The Prince felt a faint tugging sensation and the metal rings moved slightly but as it was he was still trapped. His ears caught the faint sounds of coughing, _he's laughing! That twit is doing it on purpose. _Embarrassment heated his cheeks. He pulled back from the slave and bent over so that he could look through the tunnel of the partially removed chain-mail, his hair completely askew.

"MERLIN!"

Arthur tried to shrug it off himself, only succeeding to make himself look ridiculous which caused the slave to grab himself around the middle as he laughed at the trapped Prince.

"Y-you look like a turtled trapped in his-shell!"

He broke in another round of laughter. The Prince retaliated with a sharp kick to his shin. Merlin yelped, hoping up and down on one leg.

"Prat! It is not my fault you still can't undress yourself."

"What would you know about it? You wear the same thing everyday. Speaking of which, we really need to do something about that. You look like a dark cloud following me everywhere. I know."

The Prince wiggled his arms, Merlin obliged him by grasping onto the arms and with Arthur bend over, Merlin pulled one way while the Prince leaned backwards. After a brief tug of war, both fell backwards the chain-mail slipping off with Merlin.

"You know, you may want to go up a size if you have this much trouble getting it on and off."

"Did you just call me fat? Because I am not fat."

Glaring back at the boy, Arthur rummaged through the bottom of his armoire, pulling things out and holding them up. Frowning, he left several out before moving on.

"Here we are." The Prince chucked the wadded clothing ball at the boy's face, smacking it dead center. Merlin caught the clothes as they slid down. Grasping a gray blue cloth he held it up. The shirt was a little big but much nicer than anything else he had worn before despite it worn around the edges. He also found a dusty red, and vibrant blue shirt as well as a two pairs of trousers.

"Are you sure? These are very nice clothes."

Arthur noted the way the boy was fingering the cuff, almost reveling in the feel of something so fine. He felt a small flush heat his neck, _ I wouldn't be caught head in that and he treats it as if it were new._

"I suggest you wait till tomorrow to wear these."

"My Lord?"

"It's the stocks for you after you bring me my lunch and get something for yourself. Oh, and have a replacement sent up to cover while you are otherwise occupied.

"Ah, um, yes...my Lord."

"You might as well take those clothes with you."

Merlin nodded before he turned and left to do his bidding. He quickly stopped off at the Physician's chambers to leave the clothes as the Prince had suggested. He swept through the kitchens, filling a plate and asking Maryana if she had any suggestions for a replacement. She nodded and called out to several servants who were passing through. The slave looked them over carefully before grinning to himself. He directed the chosen one to the Prince shortly after he estimated he would be gone.

Maryana handed the slave a hunk of cheese and break as he hurried out the door. He smiled his thanks and ducked out.

He kicked open the door with a little more force than necessary.

"_Mer_lin."

"Yes, what?"

Arthur sighed, "Nevermind."

He sat at the table and tucked into his lunch. A knock at his door caused him to look up annoyed.

"Come in."

The door opened to reveal a very tidy looking servant. Everything about him screamed propriety.

"Who are you?"

"Your temporary manservant, George."

"George-"

Another knock interrupted the Prince, he groaned in annoyance.

_"Yes?!"_

"Apologies, my Lord, but we have come for the slave. He has a standing appointment with the stocks."

The two guards grabbed the boy by the upper arm, and with a bow left the Prince and George to finish his meal.

Throughout the afternoon, the Prince struggled to keep his mind focused on the current task. While in a meeting with his Father and Severus he had to listen extra careful and reread the Trade Agreement so that when his Father questioned him he could answer. Something was nagging at the edge of his mind.

Finally released from the meeting, Arthur shrugged off George in favor of taking a short walk before dinner. As he passed by a window that showed the courtyard, he glanced down to see Merlin still hunched over, locked in the stocks. _That will teach him not to be late._

"My Lord?"

The Prince turned to see Morgana's maidservant behind him.

"Begging your pardon, Sire, but I wonder if I might inquire as to the whereabouts of your attendant."

"Ah, here he comes now. Right on time."

Gwen looked around, her eyebrows puckered.

"My Lord?"

"George, he's attending me while Merlin is learning a lesson."

"Merlin?"

"That slave; that _is_ his name."

Embarrassment burned her cheeks as she realized that she had never inquired after his name despite all the help he has given her.

"And where is Merlin?"

"The stocks."

"What? Why?!"

"He was remiss in his duties; he was late."

"Did you think to ask him why?"

"No, why should I? I gave him explicit orders and he disobeyed them."

Gwen's hand flew to her mouth, as red highlighted her cheeks.

"You should have let him explain. He-he had a reason. I must find my Lady. If you will _ excuse _ me, my Lord."

Abruptly, she spun on her heel and raced away; nearly bumping into George in her haste. Arthur's face reflected his bewilderment as he just stared after the girl; other than Morgana told him off.

"_Women."_

He was accosted a short while later by another woman, Arthur sighed, suddenly wishing he hadn't send George off to fetch his laundry and make his bed. The sound of angry heels clacking through the hallways gave him enough warning to school his features into something appropriate.

"Arthur Pendragon!"

"Morgana."

"Don't you _Morgana _me. Gwen tells me that you had Merlin thrown into the stocks for being late, without allowing him to explain."

"What is there to explain? I told him what I needed and he was late. End of story."

"No, it is not _end of story_, you arrogant prick!"

"Prick?"

"Yes. I will tell you why he was late. One of our maids was attacked and he was kind enough to come to our aid, even carried the girl home. So, yes, Arthur he was late because he helped us."

The Prince staggered backwards as if struck, his eyes seeking the window. Faintly, he could make out the boy still bound in the stocks as well as Gwenievere, she held a cup and was attempting to help the slave drink. _That's right, it has been a particularly warm day._

"I will have him released immediately. Why did he not saying anything?"

"Would you have listened if he did?

That question haunted him for the rest of the night.

0-0-0-0-0

A/N: Sooooooo sorry for the delay! I busted this one out in a few hours so all the mistakes are mine and I apologize for them. I will edit it later. ALSO: I have a poll on my profile if you're interested.

H.D.S 11/18/12

Fire to Rain: No fear, I was just a little behind on my update and it will NOT be left unfinished. I am flattered you wish to translate it. I will need to edit the whole thing soon, so you might want to wait for that.


	10. Chapter 9

AN: Huffs on the mirror, before wiping it clean...Can anyone hear me? See me? Taps on the glass...Hel-lo? HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I totally thought today was Saturday then I was disappointed to learn, it was only Thursday. I was looking forward to Merlin Day but I was too early. -,-" It's weird having 2 days off from work when I rarely get days off, I don't know what to do with myself..so Yay for you guys cause that means I can write more.

So I wonder how many of you guys celebrate Thanksgiving? Is this only an American thing, or has it transcended borders by now?

AN2: Thanks to bluespiritgal for letting me know that the update got messed up.

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Chapter 9

"Here, you must be tired, my boy, standing on your feet for hours."

Gaius motioned with his hand to the bend, "Here, you need to eat."

Merlin tried to protest as the man handed him a laden plate of food, "Oh no, I couldn't possibly. What about you?"

"I already ate, I was just wiping down the table when this was brought in by George. Stuffy fellow, that George."

Merlin wasn't quite successful in hiding his smirk at the physician's assessment of the servant.

"Oh you think so? I heard he was quite efficient and very polite."

Gaius could hear the tremor of humor in the slave's voice, "Hm, indeed."

The boy attacked the food with gusto, causing the man to raise a ragged eyebrow.

"If you don't slow down, you'll get hiccups."

_hic_.

"Well, too late now," he grinned with stuffed cheeks. Merlin finished his food rather quickly around the hiccups. Gaius took the now empty plate back and motioned with his head to the corner of the room where a changing screen had been set up.

"There's a tub behind there to wash up with and your sleeping clothes to change into once you're done. I'm afraid the water will be cold by now but at least you won't be covered in rotten fruits and vegetables."

Merlin grimaced as he felt squishy fruit drip from his face to his shoulder at that exact moment.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me, the Lady Morgana had it all arranged."

"Morgana? But why?"

"She did not say."

Perplexed, the slave removed his filthy clothes and tested the water. It was as cold as Gaius had warned. Leaving his finer in the water, he allowed his eyes to flash gold. Waiting for just the right amount of warmth, the slave smiled as he slipped into the water, a sigh of pleasure escaping him. He sunk low in the tub, allowing the water to completely cover his head as he scrubbed vigorously at his hair before surfacing. He continued to enjoy himself until the water cooled back down, before he removed himself from the water.

He had just pulled the robe over his head when he heard the door open and shut quickly. Merlin poked his head from behind the screen. The Prince's lips twitched as he struggled to keep himself poised with dignity. The boy's wet hair did nothing to bedraggled appearance. He was dressed in a wide dusty robe which was obviously too short at the wrist and ankles by at least six inches. Arthur lost it as he saw the boy's bare ankles; he doubled over with mirth. Merlin held his arms out as he tried to see what was so funny.

The blank look on his face sobered the Prince up. Gaining control of his mirth he looked around and his face pulled into a chagrin as he realized he had no looking glass to show the boy how ridiculous he looked being swallowed by the robe. Spying a strip of cloth, Arthur folded it in half and handed it to the boy who let it hang from his hand, confused.

Rolling his eyes, he snatched it back and reached around the boy and tied the cloth around his too skinny waist. He stepped back to get a better view, nodding to himself. While the new belt emphasized his thin frame, it still improved his look.

"Sire"

Prince Arthur cleared his throat, eyes looking over the slave's shoulder.

"I-um-wanted to-see how you were."

Merlin blinked, "Um, fine."

"I,uh, see you cleaned up after your trip to the stocks."

"Yes, the Lady Morgana was kind enough to have a bath drawn for me when I returned, though I am unsure why she would bother going to such trouble to me."

Arthur swallowed uncomfortably, "She, Morgana, didn't approve of the punishment."

"Oh. Why?"

The Prince shifted his gaze to the boy's face, searching for any trace of guile.

"You believe it was warranted?"

"I disobeyed your orders and was late. It was your duty to punish me. although-" Merlin abruptly shut his mouth, shifting from one foot to the other.

"What? Although-what?"

A blush stained his cheeks so that the boy mumbled, "It wasn't so bad."

An eyebrow raised, _he enjoyed being in the stocks? There is definitely something wrong with him._

"Ah, Prince Arthur, I was hoping to ask a favor of you."

"Anything Gaius, what is it you require?"

"I wonder if I might borrow Merlin int he morning. I am running low on herbs and other medicinal plants and the constant bending to pick them, is getting a bit much on these old joints."

"Of course, I will send him back to you after breakfast."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Oh, and Merlin?" Arthur waited until the boy looked up, "Do not come to work wearing _that_ tomorrow; else I won't be able to get any work done."

He chortled on his way, leaving Gaius and Merlin to stare after him.

"Nutter, that one."

"_Merlin!"_

"What? You were thinking it too."

Gaius merely raised an eyebrow, which caused Merlin to duck his head in contrition.

"Best get some rest, Merlin, it'll be a long day tomorrow."

"Are you sure you don't want me to clean up a bit?"

Gaius contemplated the pros and cons of allowing the boy to help out. Finally, he smiled softly, "That would be kind of you. Thank you Merlin."

The boy rewarded him with a small smile, ducking his head as he set about cleaning the dishes and wiping down the table.

"Um, Gaius?"

The physician looked up from the scrolls he was reading.

"Yes Merlin?"

Silently the old man reveled in the ability to say the name out loud which had so long been absent.

"What do I do with the bath water?"

Gaius motioned to the drain on the floor near the tub. Understanding, Merlin finished the task. The old man then shooed the boy off to the upstairs room and settled back at the table to finish scouring a few more scrolls.

Sighing as the candle passed another marker. He swore softly to himself, setting down the magnifying glass and rubbed his blood shot eyes. _How many people in Camelot have borrowed money?_

Pushing back from the table, he saw no light emanating from the boy's room. Deciding to indulge himself, he quietly made his way up the steps and let himself in. He paused, trying to ascertain if his creaking steps had caused the boy to awaken. Sensing no movement, he crept closer, watching as the moonlight played across the boy's face. _So young. _He held back, forcing his hand to stay at his side.

"I will set this right Merlin."

Taking one last look, he allowed himself the moment to pull the blankets up over the boy's narrow shoulders before he turned and left the boy to his slumber.

Waiting for the door to click shut, the boy opened his eyes as he fingered the now pulled up blanket. _What did he mean 'set this right?' _ The boy didn't fall asleep for a long while later, his mind racing.

0-0-0-0

Merlin tip toped into the Prince's room with a barely noticeable limp, creeping in the darken room to the curtains with a devious smirk that the sleeping Prince couldn't see, he flung open said curtains. The heavy fabric flew apart allowing the glorious morning light to invade Arthur's sleep.

"Rise and sine your _high_ness!"

"Ugh, _Mer_lin!"

The boy beamed at the irate Prince; completely disgruntled, the blonde grabbed the nearest item which unfortunately was a very soft pillow and pitched it with deadly accuracy. The pillow smacked the slave in the face before dropping to the floor.

"Oh, real mature," the slave grumbled under his breath.

"You do know I've been trained to kill since birth?"

"Yeah? And how long have you been training to be a prat?"*

Another pillow to the face was his answer.

"Oh, so I guess you will not be wanting this breakfast then?" The slave moved as if to take the plate away.

"Touch it and I will kill you."

The boy froze, eyes wide and hands trembling. Quickly, he backed away from the table keeping his head bowed and eyes downcast. Arthur smirked in triumph as he leisurely removed himself from the freshly laundered sheets. Helping himself to his food he ate enthusiastically, while occasionally glancing at the immobile slave.

"There is no reason to sulk Merlin."

"Yes my lord... I mean no my lord."

Halting, the Prince held a small tomato in his hand, dangling in the air as he took a closer look at the boy who seemed to be attempting to hid himself in the darkest corner he could find. Confused, Arthur tried to think of why the boy had seemingly shut down. Setting the piece of fruit down, he got up pushing away from the table to approach the slave. Each footstep seemed to cause the boy to fold in on himself even further. Recognizing his defensive posture for what it was, he spoke softly tot he boy.

"Merlin? Can you look at me? Merlin?"

The Prince saw him flinch as he said his name but ignored it in favor of coming to stand in front of him. Arthur tried waiting a few moments to see if the slave would look up at him but he never did. With an inward wince, the Prince straightened to his full height and barked, _"Merlin."_

Although it would be involuntary, he was gratified to see Merlin look up at him, his eyes still wide with fear before he tried to bow his head once more.

"Merlin, what happened? What did I say?"

The slave bit his lip as if debating whether or not he should answer.

"_Mer_lin?"

"You'll kill me."

Arthur blinked, _ he thinks I'd really have him killed? Honestly, I was joking._

"I am not going to actually kill you, honestly it was just a saying."

The boy still looked wary, but he did dare to peek up at the Prince who rolled his eyes. Shrugging Arthur back away, deciding to give him some space to calm down. Returning to finish his meal, he stole glances every so often at the boy. Down to his last bunch of grapes, he picked it up, glanced over at Merlin and promptly tossed it over to him.

"Catch!"

Startled, the boy looked up in time to see the fruit soaring to him. There was no way he would grab it in time. Arthur gapped in astonishment. The slave had leapt forward, one hand out as if to catch it. The grapes seemed to slow down as the boy fumbled, the grapes bounced off his hand. merlin stretched his other hand to grab it but also seemed to barely miss it. His third attempt was successful as he managed to catch the grape bunch on a finger.

"What was that?" Arthur asked sharply.

"Um, me catching grapes?"

"Hmph," the Prince eyed him warily. "Can you juggle?"

"Juggle? Um, no I have never tried. Why can you Sire?"

"Why would I juggle?" Arthur looked perplexed, "I am a Prince. Princes don't juggle."

"Oh. Do commoners? Is that why you asked me? Should I know how? Do you want me to try?"

Rolling his eyes, Arthur waved the boy off, "No, eat that and then report to Gaius. I want a good report from him that you were very helpful."

"Yes, my lord."

He gathered the Prince's plate with one hand and tried to eat the grapes at the same time, resulting in grapes falling off the bunch.

"Drat."

Arthur smirked as he tried to pick them from ground. Eventually, the slave made it out the door without a major incident to the Prince's amusement.

"Idiot."

The slave heard the Prince's word, but for some reason he felt no sting by it. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the kitchens. A short distance later, a shadow from an alcove bumping into the slave. Falling backwards, he jerked to a stop as a hand grasped his wrist. He looked up to apologize and thank the person but the words died in his throat. The sneer on the face of another Ulbein servant marred his otherwise pleasant features. Blue eyes burned with hostility.

The plate fell from limp fingers, clattering against the stone floor. Merlin tried to avert his eyes but they remained on the boy's face. The servant shook his long blonde hair which cause a scar to be momentarily visible. It started just above the end of his eyebrow and curved downwards to end just below his right eye.

"Enjoying your time with Prince Arthur, boy?"

The slave flinched. His eyes stuck on the scar.

"Are you going to kill him too?"

The slave's breathing came in gasps, as he made a weak effort to pull away from the servant. With a snarl, the servant released the boy, flinging him back. Merlin landed awkwardly on his back, one forearm propped up and the other on his elbow.

Finally, he tore his face away from the servant and studied the plate on the ground. Kneeling beside the boy, the servant picked up the plate as footsteps approached. he leaned in close, whispering into his ear, "I hope he knows the price of your friendship."

He jabbed the plate into Merlin's stomach as he got up and left the slave staring down at the plate. _Prince of your friendship...Kill him too?_ He didn't notice as servants passed him by; he didn't see their confusion, their curiosity, or their concern. It was only as he heard Gwen's voice coming closer that he snapped out of it and scrambled to his feet as he picked up the empty grape bunch and put it back on the plate. With head bowed he tried not to draw attention to himself as he hurried towards the kitchen.

"Merlin?"

He froze.

"It is Merlin, isn't it?"

Her voice came around to face him, her eyes trying to catch his but he studiously avoided them.

"Um, hi Gwen. Sorry, but I have to go...help Gaius."

He fled around the corner, careful not to look in her direction. Without pausing he hurriedly dropped off the plate and made his way back to Gaius'.

_Kill him too?_

_...Price...of...your friendship_

The servants words echoed around him causing him to run faster. He darted up the stairs and burst through the door. Gaius spun around, beaker in hand, "Merlin, what's wrong?"

Leaning over on his knees, he fought to catch his breath. He waved the older man off.

"I'm not late, am I?"

"Not at all; did you run the whole way?"

Merlin nodded breathlessly. Gaius set the beaker down and poured the boy a cup of water. Waiting for the boy to straighten, the physician laid one hand on the boy's back, "Stand up and lace your fingers behind your head. This will help you breathe easier."

Doing as directed, Merlin was amazed at how much easier it was to breathe in. Several moments passed before he reached out to take the cup and gulp the water down. Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, he nodded his thanks as he placed the cup back on the table.

"What were you doing when I came in?"

"Ah, I just trying to discern the compounds of the liquid on the stairs."

Wide eyed, Merlin asked, "You can do that? How?"

"Science, my dear boy."

"What's science?"

Gaius used the simplistic terms to loosely define what science was and it's uses. Merlin listened with rapt attention, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Wow."

"Indeed. Now can you reach that book, third shelf up, second from the left."

The slave approached the bookshelf, running his hand on the aforementioned shelf he stood on his toes and pulled on the dark green cover. Bringing it down he squinted as he mouthed the words.

"Her-ball-oh-gee."

"Yes, The study of plants and their uses."

"Uses? Like what, for food?"

"No, dear boy, different plants when used correctly can help help heal bruising, slow bleeding, counteract poisons. On the flip side some plats can also be deadly."

The boy nodded in understanding, his eyes bright with interest.

"Now, if you'll carry this, we shall be on our way."

Merlin grabbed the strange round holder and followed the older man down. As they wound their way through the castle and out into the open air, the boy had to blink at the sharpness of the sun on his unaccustomed eyes. Babbling voices washed over the slave, surrounding him on all sides as they ventured father down into the lower town towards the gate. Silently following the white haired man, Merlin hunched his shoulders, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him and the rustic colored hem of Gaius' robes.

"Mummy why is he weari-"

"Slave, is what I heard-"

"-try to escape?"

"-should we call the guards?"

"Ssh, he can hear you-"

"Lower than peasants-"

"Worthless-"

"Hush now-"

Without slowing, Gaius nodded to the guards as he lead him out into the woods a distance beyond the gate. Glancing around, the physician slowed to a stop and opened the book he brought with him. Flipping through the pages until he came to the desired page he turned to the silent boy.

"First on our list, here, read this."

The boy took the proffered book and wet his lips as he began to read. Gaius listened without comment as he stumbled over simple words. When he had trouble on a particularly difficult name, Gaius helped him to sound it out. Finally, the boy finished the paragraph, his face red.

"Good. Now, you'll notice it's characterized by it's distinctive smell. Now, in my bag I have a little left. Let's see if you can figure out which one."

Glancing down at the description once more, Merlin bit his lip in nervousness. Sifting through the various plants in the bag, he selected two that were similar in size, shape, and color. Inspecting them, he rubbed the leaf of one between his fingers, smelt it then repeated the process with the other.

"Um, this one?"

The corners of Gaiu's mouth lifted as a smile gratulated the boy, his blue gray eyes sparkling with pride.

"Well done, my boy. Now, why did you choose that one over the other?"

"Well, they both had a similar smell, this one's leaves are slightly longer and more textured. I remember that in the description it mentioned the rough feel of the leaf; the other one is smooth."

The physician nodded approvingly before he then showed the boy where the best specimens of that particular plant could be found. They spend two hours going over the books description, then the sample Gaius had to where it could be found and the best way to harvest them. Some needed to be cut, some needed the whole root and others pulled.

Gaius watched as the boy mouth the words as he read, studying the illustrations intently before rooting through the bag and pulling the desired herb out. A birdsong trilled overhead, and Gaius watched as Merlin paused, looking up into the trees, his blue eyes darting from branch to branch. The song stopped, and the boy pursed his lips, letting his own trill echo up to the bird. He received an immediate response, a smile tugged at his lips as he listened. They traded trills until the bird abruptly took flight. The forest fell silent around them.

"That was amazing. Could you actually understand-?" Gaius stopped talking as he took in the stiff set of the boy's shoulders, the furrowed brow.

"Merlin?"

The slave stuffed the sample back into the bag, securing it quickly and though the strap over his head so it rested diagonally across his chest.

"Someone's out there. We need to leave."

"Nonsense, it is probably some traveler on their way to Camelot."

Merlin shook his head vehemently, "Please Gaius."

"Well, it is getting late, you'll need to serve Arthur his lunch."

Gaius pulled himself up off of the tree stump and shuffled over to the boy who was waiting, shifting from foot to foot. He held out his hand to take back the book but the boy shook his head, "I'll carry it."

Shrugging, Gaius lead the boy back through the forest towards the gates. They had only made it from a clearing into the trees when they saw them. Two large men waiting for them. Gaius just continued forward, with Merlin trailing behind, his eyes fixated on the physician's back. As they approached, one pulled his sword free and held it to block their path.

"This here is a toll road, you have to pay to use it."

A brute of a man said, his hand fingering the hilt of his own sword.

"See here, there are no toll roads in Camelot; and we have no money."

Gaius protested. Merlin shifted behind him, his eyes darting through the trees as if seeking help from within.

"Oh, I am sure we can find something of worth from you."

The other man with the drawn sword spoke, his eyes glancing over the old man and onto the slave who reflexively grasped the straps across his chest tighter. The foul man's face split into a grin. He stalked closer, Gaius didn't move, knowing it was better to not antagonize such men by resisting. The man barely glanced at him as he focused on the trembling boy who held in his hands an expensive look book.

"Hand that over, boy."

Swallowing, he glanced towards Gaius, who nodded. Hands trembling, the book slipped from his fingers dropping on the ground. Horrified at his mistake, he dare not glance towards the man before him.

"You dare to defy me?"

The slave's head snapped to the side as fire raced through his neck. He could feel heat from the contact blossoming. He shook his head, "No sir."

Anger flushed the man's pale skin; he took the answer as insolence. He raised his fist to deliver another blow. The air left the slave's lungs with a whoosh as a heavy weight settled on his chest. His eyes flew back and forth in panic; brown and greens filled his vision. He tried to draw breath but the weight shifted, any air he had been able to draw was again exhaled. Finally his mind registered the weight equal that of the man with the blade.

Heat surged through his body as soon as the connection way made. Merlin's eyes flashed gold int he same instance as the weight was relieved from his body. Dimly he could hear the sounds of swords striking each other and voices mingling together. Rolling on his side, the slave glanced around. He saw Gaius off to one side, a body near him and two figures fighting closer to him. Merlin easily identified one as the man who demanded money from him, the other was someone he hadn't seen before. Curious, Merlin took in the man's scruffy mustache and beard, his thin pointy nose and squinty eyes. He had a bit longer and lighter hair than the slave himself.

A choked gasp brought his attention back from their savior to Gaius who was being held by the man formerly dazed on the ground. Seeing that the other man who distracted, Merlin's eyes burned gold. A tree limb once on the ground rose up behind Gaius and his captor. With a jerk of his head, Merlin directed the branch to whack the attacker upside his head causing him to once more greet the ground.

The physician moved away from the body, the mouth slightly agape. The slave hurried to meet him. Bright blue eyes searched the older man, his eyes took in the soft smile at his concern and he left out a sigh of relief.

Merlin looked up, the sounds of metal upon metal had fallen silent. Leaved crunched underfoot, Merlin stepped in front of the newcomer who had only a slight scratch on his face. The slave didn't see his opponent.

"Are you two alright?"

Merlin didn't respond, he felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced over that the physician who replied, "We are thanks to you-?"

"I'm-"

The man lunged forward, barreling into the slave, knocking Gaius to the side and Merlin to the ground. As he hit the ground the boy raised a hand in defense but realized something else was wrong. The man groaned on him. Merlin saw the man he had knocked out standing over them. The man's face was twisted into a triumphant grin, and this made Merlin angry. Something caught his attention and the slave took advantage of it.

The slave threw his hand out, the man jerked backwards several yards, landing near trees. Merlin gripped the man's shoulders and gently turned them both over so that he could get out from beneath him.

"Gaius!"

The physician tottered to his feet from to the fallen stronger. Noticing the blood on his leg, the older man pulled at the trousers ripping it further so he could see the damage more clearly.

"It is pretty deep, we need to get him back to my chambers."

"You'll pay for that, whelp."

_What is with this guy?_ Merlin gaped as the man was back, sword in hand and murder in his eye.

"Merlin?"

Heads snapped in the direction of the shout. Hope rose in Merlin at the sound of Prince Arthur searching for them. A growl of anger brought his attention back to the man who gripped his sword tighter. He glanced at the trio who were defenseless and back to the sounds of the Prince. Sensing his hesitation, Merlin decided to help him out.

"_Arthur!"_

There was no mistaking the urgency in the slave's shout and the answering footsteps of multiple people and at least two horses.

"This ain't over boy."

He wheeled around and crashed back through the trees, leaving the older man and boy to sag with relief.

"Gaius!"

The call came from a much closer distance. The physician checked his patient, "Merlin, head over the path and flag Prince Arthur down."

Nodding, the slave carefully shifted from beside the injured man and hurried up the path Gaius had indicated. He jogged up to where he could hear the company of men coming. Pain prickled at his foot as he scrambled over pointy stones. Wincing, he grunted as his foot caught on a root. Flailing his arms he tried to right himself futility, crashing to the ground.

Thunder roared in his ears and pounded the ground. Merlin thew his hands over his head.

"Ho! _Merlin,_ are you trying to get yourself killed?! Where's Gaius?"

"Down, the path, there's a man hurt. He saved us."

"Get up. Let's go."

Merlin got to his feet and quickly showed the group where Gaius was with his patient. Upon reaching them, the Prince swung down from his horse, handing the reins over to the slave.

"Gaius, how is he?"

"He's loosing blood, I need to get him back so I can treat him properly. Did you bring your kit with you?"

"Sir Leon?"

"Sire." Already anticipating his needs, the first knight came forward with hands full with a pack.

"Merlin, I'll need your help," Gaius called.

"Um-" The slave glanced down at the reins and the horse, not sure what he should do.

"Sir Seamus, take over for him," the Prince ordered.

Merlin felt a large presence behind him, he turned feeling a heavy stone drop in his stomach. Looming behind him with a scowl twisting his feature was the knight he met the hallway. Gulping, he headed over the reins, before fleeing to Gaius' side.

"Here, I need to keep pressure on the wound."

Guiding the boy's hands into position, he shifted so that he could angle himself properly ad lifted the man's leg and motioned for the slave to shift over to the placement on the man's foot. Once there, the physician rested the foot over the boy's shoulder. The amount of seeping from the wound decreased significantly once the wound was elevated. Deft hands wrapped the wound with strip of cloth from the knight's pack.

"Gaius?"

The older man turned his attention to the boy, who was studying the wrappings.

"Yes, Merlin?"

"Why did you bind above where there was no wound?"

Gaius considered the boy as he put the kit back together, "That is called a tourniquet, it helps to slow the blood so he won't bleed out before we get him back."

Nodding, the slave alternated from looking at the patient to Gaius. Seeing the older man struggling with the pack, Merlin shifted slightly so that he was able to take it from him and add it to the one he already wore.

"Thank you Merlin."

Sir Leon and another knight approached, kneeling down and lifted the man, to drape him over one of the horses. Sir Leon then helped Gaius onto his mount before coming to walk beside him. The trip back was tense as each of the knights were on high alert. They made it back swiftly. Merlin struggled to help bring the patient down with his hands laden with supplied as they were.

One of the knights came over and helped Merlin bring the an down, draping one of his arms over his shoulder as the slave did the same with the other. Together they were able to bring the wounded man up to Gaiu's spare cot. Laying him down, Merlin thanked the knight.

"I can take the pack back with me."

"You are a knight, it would not be proper for you to do the duty of-"

"Gaius will need you here. It would not be prudent for you to have to return it only to come back to help Gaius."

Sir Owaine didn't bother to wait for the boy's answer, he snatched the pack away from him. With a smile the knight left to return to his duties. Merlin didn't have an opportunity to further protest as Gaius called for his assistance. The next hour was spend using the plants he helped Gaius acquire to treat the injured man.

Wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve, the slave sighed wearily. The older physician chuckled, "And that was only a simple sword wound. Just wait until we have an arrow wound."

The boy smiled at the use of "we"., _Three days..._ Shoulders slumped, and he turned around trying to steady his breathing. Shifting, he started to wind unused fabric strips, capping jars, wiping down the tables.

"You best be on your way back to Arthur, he'll have need of you with all the preparation for the tournament and coronation."

Nodding, the slave finished what he was doing before he hurried out and down the stairs.

"_Merlin."_

Skidding to a stop, the boy glanced around him.

"Yes..sir?"

Servants glanced at him as they hurried away from him. Some whispered to their companions, tittering as they gossiped about the slave. Others took great length to skirt around him as they avoided eye contact; it was as if he had some contagious disease that they were afraid of catching. The slave flushed at the attention he was drawing to himself. Hunching his shoulders, as if to buffer himself against the whispers of those around him; he sped up his pace.

"Merlin! There you are. How is he?"

"Gaius said he should be fine and awake in a few hours."

"Good. Now, with the tournament tomorrow I need to have my armor buffed and polished, sword sharpened, chain-mail fixed, lance mended, ceremonial robes washed and pressed, boots polished and circlet gleaming."

The boy nodded as the Prince listed the tasks for him to do as the list became longer and longer, his nodding had slowed to a stop and his jaw had fallen open incredulously.

"Wh-at?"

"Do I need to repeat it again?"

The smirk was back.

Stiffening his back in response, the boy proceeded to repeat the exact list of chores without error. This time, the Prince's mouth dropped open surprise.

"If I might be _so bold _your majesty, but you'll catch flies if you leave it open for long," the slave suggested primly.

Arthur snapped his mouth shut, "Well, on with you. The tasks won't finish on their own."

The pair made their way back through the hallways towards the Prince's room when the boy stopped. Tilting his head, the slave glanced down the hallway on his left. The lack of following foot falls caused Arthur to stop in exasperation.

"_Mer_lin!"

The slave took a step closer to the left, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Are you listening to me?"

A few quick strides brought the Prince back to where the boy was.

"Clearly not."

Arthur's mouth dropped open briefly, caught off guard at the boy' quick and honest reply. He opened his mouth to retort but stopped.

"Please...my lord..I-I..."

Recognition hit both young men at the same time.

"Gwen."

The Prince easily outdistanced the slave in moments as he jogged forward. Coming out of the short hallway he glanced about as he saw King Severus with one meaty hand clamped around the girl's slender wrist. A tray was overturned on the ground near her feet.

"What seems to be the trouble here?"

The King turned slightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners upon seeing the Prince, who was glancing between the two.

"Nothing of any significance Prince Arthur. I was merely inquiring of the handmaid why she disobeyed my request."

"That doesn't sound like Gwenivere," Arthur observed. The maid in question glanced up sharply at the Prince's use of her name.

"Perhaps I can help to clear up the matter. What was your request?"

"I had asked that my lunch be brought to my chambers as I was to dine alone that I might work on the treaty."

"Is that not the lunch? Now on the ground?"

"My Prince-"

"No, I was informed that it is not, and that she had no intention of doing her duty."

The Prince drew his brow together in confused surprise.

"Is that true, Gwenivere?"

"It is the Lady Morgana's meal and I sent for another servant to attend to his majesty per our instructions."

"What instructions?"

"A recent one, that the handmaids are only to serve the Ladies of Court and if else were requested that we delegate such request to a manservant."

"Ah, well, that seems to have clarified it; in fact, I believe that is George with your meal as we speak."

King Severus turned to look behind him where the Prince's gaze was directed. Coming towards him with a heavy laden tray, balanced perfectly was a stoic face manservant. He turned to look at the Prince who smiled with satisfaction at the efficiency of the Camelot servant.

The clearing of a throat seemed to jolt Arthur from his musing. It took him a moment to realize that the King still had a grip on the handmaid.

"Well, if that is all, I am sure Morgana is wondering where her meal has run off to."

Prince Arthur commented lightly, while looking pointedly at her wrist still trapped in his man. One by one his tick fingers unwound themselves from the delicate wrist just as George pulled up the requisite three steps behind the King. Abruptly, the King turned to the Prince, a smile gracing his features, "Thank you for your help in getting to the veracity of the matter.I look forward to your performance tomorrow."

Inclining his head in acknowledgement of his words of encouragement Arthur allowed a small smile to tug proudly at the corner of his mouth. The King clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by. The Prince stared after the pair as they left, his eyes dark.

The sounds of clay dishes clattering together brought his attention back to the present. Kneeling beside Gwen was Merlin, his hands deftly stacking them, he was so fast that Gwen didn't have a chance to help. With that done, Merlin left the stack on the ground and turned his attention to Gwen who was starting to tremble slightly, holding her wrist to her chest. Slowly Merlin stretched forth his hand, pulling it gently out by the elbow until he could get her to allow him to stretch it flat. The slave barely heard Arthur's approach, but he did hear his hiss of anger. There on her slender wrist was a series of developing bruises in the shape of a large hand print. Given her already tan skin for such a bruise to be seen as clearly as they could, it must be deep and painful.

"You should see Gaius. This looks pretty bad; he can give you some pain potion and help to heal it faster."

"But-"

"Don't worry about Morgana, I will let her know what happened. I can also have another bring her her food. You should just take it easy. In fact, I shall accompany you to Gaius'. Merlin, take that to the kitchens and arrange a replacement for Morgana."

"Yes Sire."

Merlin grabbed the stack and stood turning to head to the kitchen when he paused, blinking rapidly. Arthur and Gwen were walking, side be side, passing through an area where sunlight spilled over. For just a second, the golden light seemed to glow off their hair creating a strange crown of light above their heads. When he blinked it was gone.

AN: ahhhh, my wrists hurt. Next update in two weeks so I can rest my wrists.

-,-

HDS

11.22.12


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Lance, sword, armor, robes, circlet, chainmail; how am I going to get this all done? Merlin frowned as his mind turned over all the possibilities and combinations of trying to get all his chores done by tonight. _Okay, if I start with the robes I can let them soak as I clean his circlet…then polish his boots…No, his sword and lance are more important as he'll use those in the tournament._

"Problem, Merlin?"

Jumping in surprise, Merlin blinked at Gwen's sudden appearance directly in front of him. _When did she-? Wait...where am I?_ The slave glanced around, at some point he must have stopped as he wasn't nearly as far along as he should be.

"Gwen! How's your wrist?"

Her eyes softened at his concern, "Gaius fixed me up quite quickly."

She lifted her wrist to display the wrapping that Gaius had bandaged her with.

"Is something on your mind, you look perturbed."

At his confused look, she blushed and proceeded to rephrase her statement. At her clarification, Merlin nodded before he looked around cautiously. Bending closer he softly told her of his dilemma.

"How does he possibly expect you to do all that by tomorrow?"

He shrugged, "Magic?"

Gwen's eyes widened, on hand flying to her mouth. She looked left and right, "That's illegal!"

The boy raised an eyebrow at the tremble in her voice before he frantically waved his hands, "No, no, that was a joke. A bad one at that. Sorry!"

Relief washed over her face as comprehension clicked in her mind, "Oh, thank goodness. Even the mere mention of the word can have you thrown in the dungeons. You must be be careful. Promise me."

"Sure."

The handmaid took another few moments to gather her thoughts.

"I know!"

Gwen brightened as an idea struck her. Merlin flinched at her abrupt outburst.

"David."

"David?"

"Yes, David."

"Who is David?"

"David works as an apprentice to the weaponsmaster. He can repair Arthur's lance."

"Oh, no, no no. I can't, that's my task. I cannot shirk my duties."

Gwen waved off his protest, "You are delegating so that it all might get completed as commanded."

"But-"

"No buts. Now, let's go see him right now."

Merlin stared at her as she started off in the direction of the armory. Gwen must have felt his stare because she stopped and beckoned him to follow her. The slave allowed his feet to shuffle forward in small steps. A shudder ran down his body as he felt Gwen slip her arm through his in an effort to force him to move faster. A slight warmth seeped from her to him and the boy felt a calmness descend over him. The touch brought an unconscious smile to his face.

The chatter of servants broke through Merlin's musings and he retracted his arm, slowing his pace to come to walk two steps behind the girl. He tried no to let the hurt he saw in her eyes affect him; or the sudden loss of warmth. They continued in that style as they reached their destination. Merlin wandered among the weapons until he came to the lances. He looked amongst them in consternation. _How am I supposed to know which one is his? Maybe I should just look for the most pretentious of the lot._

The slave bit his lip as he picked up two of the more ornate of the lances.

"Neither. That is if you are looking for Prince Arthur's lance. His is the one to your left."

Merlin fumbled with the lances in his hand, flinching as one of them slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. A smaller hand plucked the lance up before Merlin had time and eased it back into place. Sam scuffed his foot against the floor as he refused to meet the slaves eyes.

The slave also replaced the lance he had managed to hold onto before thanking the squire. The boy looked up in surprise, his blue eyes filled with guilt which seemed to age him prematurely.

"Why are you thanking me? I got you in trouble. He almost flogged you and it would have been my-you shouldn't even talk to me anymore."

Samuel's eyes watered as he gestured with his hands. Sniffling, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

"You didn't know. It was just a mistake," Merlin murmured softly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder as he had seen other do to comfort.

"It was a mistake, my mistake and like the Knight's Code says: I should admit it and make rek-recom-recon-"

"Recompense," Gwen's voice helpfully supplied from the corner where she had been watching.

Sam nodded, "Yes, reck com pence."

"Sam, you do not have cause to seek recompense. It was my fault, I knew what I was doing and I knew the risks; so if it was anyone's fault, it would be mine."

The blonde shook his head, his shoulders stubbornly set, his blue eyes clear and defiant.

"Sam, was it?"

Gwen's voice interrupted them, causing them both to look over to where she was standing unobtrusively. The squire nodded his encouragement.

"Merlin needs some help with Prince Arthur's chores. Would you help him, as recompense?"

The squire was already nodding as soon as he understood what she was saying. The slave shook his head but she spoke over him.

"Can you grab Prince Arthur's lance? Perfect, we'll take that to David'd for repair; meanwhile, Merlin is supposed to sharpen his sword and chainmail mended-"

"I will do it." Sam broke in.

Gwen's face broke into a smile, she could see that the boy was taking this very seriously by the way he straightened his shoulders and raised his head. She lifted one hand to her mouth as she tried to contain her mirth. He looks like a young Prince Arthur. I wonder how long he practiced to do it so well.

"No, Sam, you can't-!" The slave protested, his blue eyes were cloudy with some emotion Gwen couldn't pinpoint but it wiped the humor from her mind.

"Merlin, this is a matter of honor. Please let me do this. Give me the chance to restore my honor."

Merlin sighed in resignation, one hand went up to run a hand through his hair. Wincing, he dropped the hand to his neck as a shiver slid in an icy path down his back. For a moment, he spared a glance around but saw nothing that warranted such a reaction. He took the Prince's lance from Sam and sighed.

"His sword and chainmail are in his chambers. If you could handle that I would be grateful."

"You can trust me. I will have it ready by dinner and dropped off at Gaius'; that is where you are staying is it not?"

The slave nodded as he forced a smile to his lips. Unease still prickled at his soul, like long icy nails raking up his back and resting around his neck. Sam beamed and took off, eager to be of help to the slave.

"Good. Now let's get that to David," Gwen said, brightly.

Merlin made sure to pay attention where they were going so he could retrieve the lance when the time came. Gwen smiled and traded pleasantries with a few of the townsfolk. He watched wistfully as she casually laid her hand on the arm of an older woman, roughly the age of what he imagine his Mother to be. He held the lance in one hand, resting the tip on the ground as he looked around while he waited for Gwen.

Shuddering, Merlin looked over his shoulder, eyes flitting over the other townsfold. He saw women conversing with baskets in hands, smiles on their faces. He watched men carrying their wares. He saw children running, laughing. A woman passed by him with a shallow basket of flowers he took the opportunity to breathe in deeply.

_-0-0-0-0-0-_

_A group of small boys were in a clearing near a small village chasing each other. Laughter echoing in his ears, a small knot of tightness clenched in his chest. A longing. His short legs took him a few moments to reach the other kids, as he approached the boys slowed to a stop; forming a half circle around him._

_"Can I play?"_

_Three of the four boys looked at each other, snickering behind their hands. Slight shoulders drooped in response. The three boys made faces at him before they ran off leaving him eith the one other boy._

_"Just ignore them Merlin; they're dumb."_

_"Why don't they like me?" A sniffle accompanied the question. He bent down plucking a bright yellow flower from the grass._

_"I dunno."_

_The soft padding of steps caused him to turn. He sniffled once, as he brought his hand up and held the flower out. A larger feminine hand reached for it but slipped down. He felt his feet leave the ground as her arms pulled him up to her. He giggled, and reached up to place the flower in her hair. Snuggling under her chin, he could faintly feel the thudding of her heart. He placed on hand just under her collarbone and the other on his own chest. The thudding moved in tandem and he smiled._

_"I love you Mer-"_

"Merlin?"

The slave blinked slowly, shivering. He glanced around as if trying to find the boys he saw and more importantly, the woman but it was gone fleeting like the soft scent of flowers and grass.

"Are you okay?"

With sagging shoulders the boy nodded and they continued on their way. It was only a short distance later that they came to their destination. They ducked inside. Merlin looked around in wonder at all the various shapes and sizes of staves, lances and cross bows. Intricate designs adorned the ones on the far wall and they progressed to much simpler designs.

"Can I help you?"

Merlin's hand momentarily gripped the lance tighter before he turned to greet the newcomer.

"Hello David," Gwen greeted the young man warmly. Merlin took the opportunity to study him unobtrusively. He was a young man of the same height as the slave but he was stockier. Dark hair pulled back and held in place by a thin leather strap, leaving his face open and his brown eyes expressive. Warm eyes regarded Gwen with a smile. He listened as she explained what they needed. She motion to Merlin and the lance he held.

"David, this is Merlin."

David's eyes flickered over to the boy, he started when he heard his name. Glancing between Gwen and the boy, his face split into a grin and he stepped forward hand outstretched. David didn't wait for him to meet him, he grasped his free forearm.

"You are the one that helped Bethia?"

Without waiting for a response, he plowed on, "I am in your debt. Gwen tells me you have need of a repair on Prince Arthur's lance, is that it?"

He indicated the weapon in hand and held out his own to receive it. Automatically Merlin handed it over. He examined it carefully, not just at the part where the obvious break is, nodding as if his hands confirmed what his eyes already knew.

"I will have this done later today. Shall I put it back in place within the armory?"

Merlin tried to protest but Gwen beat him to it, "That would be lovely. Thank you David."

"It is the least I could do. You have done me a great service, I can only hope to try and make up for it."

Realizing the futility of further protest, Merlin bowed and thanked him for his help before they started back. They traveled in relative silence on their way back, each lost in their own thoughts. Gwen glanced over at the boy, and armed with a soft smile. _Has it really only been about a week since he came here? after the coronation he'll be gone, back to Ulbein and I'll never see him again. I wonder if he'll keep the weight he's managed to put on or if his duties will cause him to lose it again._ The smile dropped from her face as she felt the weight of that thought settle in her stomach. Worrying her bottom lip, she looked forward again as she tried to stave off the tears that seemed determined to gather.

Up ahead, a familiar stooped gait caused Gwen to call out, "Gaius!"

The old physician looked up, and smiled as he caught sight of the two. He waited as the pair increased their pace in order to reach him more quickly.

"Gwen, Merlin, what are you doing out this way?"

The handmaid noticed how Gaius smiled when he said Merlin's name and kept his attention on the boy. She stayed silent, forcing Merlin to speak up and explain what they were doing.

"Well, it sounds as if you are busy," Gaius observed.

Gwen saw Merlin's brow pucker, she felt something stir in her chest at his next words.

"Is there something you need, Gaius?"

"If it wouldn't be too much, there is a book I require but it is a bit of a distance from my chambers and there are many stairs-"

"What is it? Where do I find it?" The slave queried.

Gwen interrupted before Gaius could respond, "If you'll excuse me, I should return so that I can get Prince Arthur's robes ready and attend to Lady Morgana."

A slight touch to her arm stopped her, she looked over at Merlin who retracted his hand as soon as he made contact. A flush to his cheeks spoke f his embarrassment.

"Ah, um, thank you, Gwen."

She smiled at him, taking the moment to pat him on the arm just like Merlin had seen others do. He could swear the area she had touched was still warm for a few moments afterwards, even after she left. _Is this what it is like? Is this what I could have had, I had not-? Merlin squashed the thought before he dwelled on it too much. Kill him too?_ The slave could feel the blood drain from his face, and he faintly could feel a hand grasp his elbow to steady him; another hand was rubbing his back. The motion helped him to regain control of his breathing which Merlin hadn't realized he lost.

Slowly his breathing, the slave gained control of his faculties enough to put a small distance between him the physician who had been giving him comfort.

"What happened? Are you alright, Merlin?"

The boy's head bobbed emphatically at the question, one hand tugging at his neckerchief. The old man studied the young man, pleased to see color returning to his face and alertness to his movements. The physician didn't comment on the small tremors running through the slave's limbs, nor the way his eyes darted at any sudden movements. Gaius didn't ask about his sudden need for space, he merely waited for him to acknowledge his presence. He watched as the slave took a deep breath and looked at him but no in the eyes, somewhere just over his shoulder.

"What was it you needed, Gaius?"

"It's an extremely old book on bloodlines."

"Where do I find it?"

Gaius gave him detailed directions that would take him into the inner most portion of the castle. Merlin repeated it back to him flawlessly. Gaius tried to thank the boy but Merlin just waved him off, parting with a brief nod.

0-0-0-0

It took him several minutes before he felt as though he had almost reached his destination. The directions told him to go right then left. Merlin review the directions in his head once more as he looked around the torch lit hallway. He was so far down that there were no windows and as such there was no natural light to depend on. The lack of windows meant that there was also no current of fresh air to sweep away the staleness and musk of the underground. Merlin's nose twitched uncomfortably as he fought a shudder. Torches flickered eerily around causing the shadows to ebb and flow against the walls and floors like water on the shoreline; they flittered to and fro, distorting Merlin's vision. Breathing out through his nose, the slave turned right, counting his steps as he went. Approaching the point where he was directed to go right he stopped.

He looked right and saw a long staircase behind a locked gate descending into the depth of the earth. On the right was a smaller set of steps into a large room but the lack of light made discerning the rest impossible. Although he knew he was to go right, his eyes strayed to the left once more. _No, no. The book, I need to retrieve the book...for Gaius._

"Merlin."

The slave's head snapped around to the right, his eyes wide as the rumbling voice called his name. He took several steps in it's direction to the left.

"Merlin."

He felt a tug deep within his chest pulling him in that direction of the voice. Taking a breath, Merlin lifted the torch from it's holder, a flash of gold and the door clicked opened, he started down the stairs. The farther he went the lighter the air felt. About a quarter of the way down a gust wind snuffed out the torch and threw him forward. He cried out in pain as his shoulder and hip connected with the stairs. It was oddly dizzying, rolling down in darkness, not able to orient himself until he rolled to a stop. His chest hit the level ground with an explosion of air, his arms flopping on either side of his torso and his legs still elevated on the stairs behind him.

The slave's groan was drowned out by the thunderous sound reverberating around him. He lay there until the sound quieted and a new sound took it's place. A strange rumbling that somehow resembled a deep throated chuckle. Eyes snapping open, the boy was surprised to find that there was enough light bouncing off that he could see without the aide of his now extinguished torch. Carefully, he rolled onto his back, and turned his head towards the cavernous opening and blinked. _I found it. I found it!_

Hurriedly the boy got to his feet, barely conscious of the dull throbbing of his body, as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Something broke in him and a massive weight seemed to lift, causing him to feel as light as a feather. Blue eyes sparkled with wonder, he took several steps forward, awe written into every line of his body. Some part of him faintly warned him that he should be careful but he easily squashed it.

"Careful you warlock, there is no need to tempt fate."

His voice reverberated through his whole body, filling Merlin with a thrill. He took several more steps forward and the head of the massive creature shot forward to meet him._ I wonder if he eats people._ Panic blossomed in his chest as his foot didn't feel solid ground like he had been expecting. Just as he felt himself start to drop, he felt the snout brace him up and push him back onto the ledge. Once he was safely from the edge, the head retracted and without the support, Merlin's legs collapsed under him. He fought for a moment to catch his breath.

"How clumsy you are for such a destiny so great as it is."

The slave scooted for the ledge and sat down so that his legs dangled over in open air.

"You are a dragon, aren't you?" The boy asked, his eyes wide with a childlike curiosity. The large creature chuckled at him, his golden eyes watching the boy with interest.

"You are correct, young one."

"Wow," he breathed. "Wait..Clumsy, I am not clumsy. Well, I am clumsy but that wasn't me, something hit me."

The golden dragon hummed, "Why did you not heed my call?"

"I am sorry, at first I didn't know what was happening. After that, well, I couldn't because I had no reason to come this way and my master wouldn't have let me."

"Your master?"

"King Severus of Ulbein. I am his slave."

The dragon's eyes narrowed at this revelation. He seemed to ponder this, tilting his head as if he were listening to something Merlin couldn't hear. The slave rocked backwards and forwards with barely contained energy.

"Oh, young one, where did destiny go wrong?"

"What do you mean, destiny?"

"Since the beginning your destiny was written, bound together with another. It was your path to walk, to bring peace to all of Albion. It was for you to protect the young Prince Arthur, to guide him to his ultimate potential as the Once and Future King and restore the balance of magic once more."

Merlin sat there, still, unable to form a coherent sentence. _Protect Arthur...Once and Future King...Restore the balance of magic._

"Protect Arthur! That's right! Someone is trying to kill Arthur!"

"You must not let them succeed. If they do, you will have doomed Albion to eternal darkness, young warlock."

"Bu-but how can I protect him? Magic is outlawed on pain of death! I am a mere slave, what can I do?"

"A mere slave? You have the ability to be the greatest warlock that has lived and will ever live. Do you doubt my words?"

Merlin cast his eyes down, "I just, I don't see what you see."

"Perhaps not yet, young one; and that might be due to the cruel twist of fate but if you allow someone else to define you, you will not be able to achieve all that you were meant to. So far you can only see what you will because you allow others to cloud your destiny and until you are able to break free and stand on your own; unfulfilled will your destiny be.

"Now, let me caution you once again: Arthur must not fall or all of Albion will fall with him, yourself as well."

With that parting gift, the great dragon unfurled his wings, pumping them up and down with mighty strokes which created huge gusts of wind that bowled the slave over and back towards the stone steps. Merlin watched as a great metal chain lifted with the dragon, creating a line to where he had flown upwards and out of sight. Fain blue lights danced across the floor and over the boy propped against the stone steps.

_I talked to a dragon!_ He replayed the conversation in his head as he waited for the shock to wear off and the ability to move his limbs come back to him. It was several moments of silence before the boy dared to move, afraid that the dragon might come back and that he'd miss him.

Grit and a chalky like substance greeted his hands as he felt along the ground for the fallen torch which seems to have taken refuge in one of the darker areas of the cavern. His fingers brushed against something, causing it to roll slightly. Reaching a bit farther he clasped his hand around the stick, a flash of gold was met with the faint blue yellow glow of the torch igniting. One final look back to the large opening but there was no whooshing sound of the dragon's arrival, he ascended back the way he came; wincing as he did.

_Book. Gaius' book._ Remembering his purpose for coming down here, Merlin paused after reaching the top, struggling to remember the directions. _I know I need to go right but...which way did I come from?_ He glanced down either way, unable to recall the direction he had originally come, all he could think about was Arthur. He replaced the borrowed torch from whence he got it.

_Destiny...Why me? What can I possibly do to protect Arthur? My magic is completely instinctual. He must have made a mistake. That's it, he's mistaken me for someone else...Uh, where am I?_

Merlin peered to his left, his right, behind him and finally forward. At some point during his musings he had started walking and ended up at an intersection of two corridors. T_hat's just great, now Prince Arthur will have cause to discipline me. If the King hears about this..._ Gulping at that thought, he lifted one hand rubbing his neck. Sighing, he chose a path at random and started down it. Belatedly he realized that he chose one that was only lit few and far between with torches. I should have kept the other one.

Halfway down there was only unlit torches, he grabbed one and felt his magic prickle. With a soft whoosh, he was able to see again. _Maybe I should have gone the other way._ The slave gasped as the torch lit the dead end he came to. To the right the torch lit an entrance barred by an iron gate. This room was also barred shut, and behind the metal slats were books, swords, bottle of deep blue, greens and all manner of sizes. Wow... He stood there staring at the different artifacts for a few minutes, he turned to leave when he spotted something dark sticking out from behind a table. He stepped closer, squinting his eyes to sharpen his vision.

_A boot?_

Merlin looked around once more and bit his lip. _Why would there be a boot amongst all this finery?_ It didn't move. Placing a hand on the gate, he held his other hand upwards so that the torch would illuminate the space better. The boot was attached to something. _A leg._

The slave glanced down at the lock and back to the boot. _Help. I need help. I can unlock it and make sure it's not just a boot and lock it up if it is just a boot. But if it's not and I don't get help..._

"Sorry."

The boy turned and darted back up the way he came, the torch casting ghostly figures that seemed to chase after him. He made it a point to memorize his path as he sought help. Panting, he started to slow down. His free hand went to his left side, he massaged it as best he could without stopping. Finally, he could hear voices and he called out, "Help! Please! Someone, I need help!"

Footsteps echoes as people ran to his aide. Two guards and a knight met him halfway.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

It was the knight who spoke, an older man of his late twenties, he had dark blonde hair with a tint of red and under layers of brown which curled. He had a few days growth on his face and intelligent eyes which demanded answers.

"A body. There's a body back there, in a vault room."

"What were you doing there?"

"Gaius asked me to retrieve a book but I got lost," the slave replied.

One of the guards spoke up, "Sir Leon, I have seen this boy accompany the court physician."

The knight, Sir Leon nodded in acceptance of the guards confirmation.

"You're that boy from this morning, who was attacked while gathering herbs with Gaius?"

"Yes, that's right, Sir."

"Lead on."

Breathing in, the slave whirled around and led them swiftly to the place he had seen the boot. Upon reaching the door, Sir Leon looked to where the boy pointed.

"Someone is in there but I fear it is too late for him..." Sir Leon trailed off, he bent down to examine the lock. There were small scratches around the key. Fingering the area, the knight used his left hand to left the lever and pushed on the gate door. It swung open. Merlin's mouth dropped open, he felt heat race up his neck and across his cheeks. He closed his mouth.

Merlin gagged, his hand frantically grabbed at his neckerchief and he pulled it over his nose; holding it in place with one hand. The guards turned away, their eyes filling with tears. The slave glanced toward the knight who had briefly lifted a hand to his nose before he steeled himself and regulated his breathing through his mouth. He took several strides forward and knelt beside the boots, one hand automatically reaching to confirm what his nose already knew. _He was dead._

Merlin trailed behind the knight, his eyes seeking the face of the deceased young man. Despite the discoloration of death, the boy could tell by the smooth face that it was a person of roughly the same age as himself.

A gasp drew the slave's attention, he looked behind him to where the guards had stayed but neither of them were paying attention, their eyes seeking anywhere but the direction of the stench. Facing forward, the boy moved to stand slightly off of the knight.

Eyes wide and mouth set in a firm line, the knight mouthed a word that Merlin didn't catch. Sir Leon's brows drew together, his eyes hardening as something caught his gaze. A heavy sigh escaped and Merlin looked questioning at him.

"This was Prince Arthur's manservant who went missing. His name was Oliver. He's been murdered."

A/N: duh dun duuuuuuuun! So, who guessed it? Anyone? Buller?

Also: exciting announcement: I am finally going to go for the gold. Yup, I am going to publish an original story. I have several over the years that I have mapped out and now this has inspired me to take it all the way. I have 2 stories in particular I am working one. :-D

So, I now have to work hard to keep up the momentum to finish THIS story before I delve too deeply in the originals, so THANK YOU to everyone who has read and encouraged me thus far. Your reviews are truly fueling me, you guys are awesome!


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Merlin's eyes were wide, "Murdered? Why, he was just a servant."

Sir Leon looked over at him, his eyes resting just below his chin before they rose to meet his.

"He wasn't just a servant, he was the servant to _the Prince._"

The air seemed t grow heavier at these words, and the slave tried to understand what the knight hadn't said. _Why kill a servant, a Prince can always get another one? What does that accomplished? _A chill settled over the boy as a revelation hit him like the hilt of a sword. _If the servant, Oliver hadn't gone missing...murdered, I would have not been assigned to be Arthur's temporary replacement. Had that not happened I would not be able to help him. Is this part of that destiny righting itself or is someone interfering?_

"…Gaius."

The slave shook himself, his hand still covering his nose with his neckerchief. He turned in time to see one of the guards leave back the way they came. Sir Leon stood up and walked the perimeter of the room. Thick layers of dust covered all the items, nothing looked to be disturbed. As the knight came back to where Merlin stood he frowned. With a flick of his wrist he gathered his Camelot red cape in one hand and carefully backed up a step, with his eyes focused on the ground.

The knight bent to one knee and used his free hand to touch the ground. The slave squinted, angling his head so he could try to see what Sir Leon saw; all he saw was dust on the ground, thick except in small patches, which had less. _Footprints. There are footprints._

"He walked in here voluntarily?" The slave mumbled to himself.

A sharp glance from the knight let him know that he had heard him. Heat flashed up his neck, and Merlin looked away. A yawn caught the slave by surprise; _it's not even mid-afternoon. _ Merlin shook his head in an effort to shake off the wave of exhaustion that crashed over him. Blinking rapidly, he had to fight to keep his eyes open over the next several long minutes as they waited for the guard to return.

The blond knight studied the floor from several different angles; he put his own boot next to one footprint and then another. Crouching down, he then studied his boot in comparison to the dead servant. Merlin just stood silently, concentrating on breathing without letting too much of the rotting smell of death in as little as possible.

Two sets of footprints echoed, one quick and even while the other was more of a shuffle. The stiffness in the slaves shoulders eased slightly Sir Leon noted. The boy quickly left his position hurrying to meet the newcomers. When the boy appeared next he was in possession of the old physician's round pack and two long poles, which he carried awkwardly.

Nodding to the wizen man, Sir Leon stepped back from the body so as to allow him easy access. Gaius observed the body in its original position for a moment before he knelt down beside his splayed out arms.

"No obvious signs of trauma, " the physician sighed as he rolled the boy over and checked for dried blood or abnormal bruising. Finding none, he turned to the two guards, "I'll know move once I can examine him in my chambers."

Taking his cue, Merlin set the pair of long poles down and apart so that the body could be laud on the fabric that connected the two poles together. The two guards then stepped forward, transferring the body to the stretcher before picking it up. The quartet left the vault, and made their way towards the Court Physician's rooms.

"Your book! Gaius, I forgot your book!" The boy's brows raised while the corner of his mouth dropped in consternation. He turned back towards the underground chambers only to be pulled to a stop by Gaius' hand on his sleeve.

"Merlin, it is alright. The book can wait, first we need to find the cause of Oliver's death."

Understanding the urgency, the slave continued behind Gaius until they reached his chambers. Scurrying up the stairs, Merlin opened the door to allow Gaius, the guards and Sir Leon through. Closing it behind him, the slave turned around to find the guards already deposited the body on a table and were leaning the poles up against the wall. They looked to the knight who nodded their dismissal. Merlin hastily open the door for them before closing it again.

Gaius tipped the head from side to side, lifted one eyelid and peered into the bloodshot eyes. _Hpmh._ Lifting the left hand, the older man studied the servant's fingertips. Merlin watched with interest as Gaius mumbled his observations to himself.

"Gaius?"

The old man looked up at the knight, "It looks like he was suffocated, but I'll need to confirm that once I finish."

Nodding his understanding, Sir Leon left with a, "I shall inform the King and Prince Arthur."

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, looking at Gaius.

"I am alright, you are free to return to Prince Arthur."

"Thanks Gaius!" The slave called over his shoulder as he dashed out the door. Pounding down the steps, he had to throw out his arms to catch himself as he stumbled down the last step. Once he was stable, he hurried down the corridor towards the Prince's chambers. Sprinting around the corner the distinctive yellow dress of Gwen's flashed at the end of the hallways. Another familiar set of clothing registered in his brain, that of a servant of Ulbein. Dressed in the gray-blue robes, the blonde haired servant bent his neck forward and Gwen moved a step closer.

Hearing him approaching the servant looked over Gwen's shoulder and motioned slightly for her to turn. As she did, the servant's face twisted into a smirk; it stretched his scar, marring his face. Merlin slowed down as he saw Gwen's eyes widen, quickly she turn around to a concerned blonde and nodded before fleeing from the slave's presence.

The slave stopped several feet from the servant, his face lined with confusion. Gazing down the path Gwen had taken he felt something cold seize his heart and squeeze. _Why would she run away…from me? What did he tell her? _

The sound of the servant's boots coming to a stop beside him caused Merlin's shoulders to tense.

"I felt it only fair to warn her of what happened to the last girl you got close to," the servant explained, his breath hot against the slave's neck.

"I wish someone had warned me," he hissed.

A second boulder took residence in the slave's belly. His shoulders drooped in response to the servant's dark chuckles, as he left the slave standing alone in the hallway. The slave shivered at a non-existent breeze; his eyes focused on the last place he had seen Gwen. Taking a deep breath, Merlin clenched his left hand in a fist; so tight that his knuckles were bone white, small beads of red appeared on his palm. Letting out his captured breath, he slowly uncurled his fist and wiped his hand on his neckerchief.

Merlin continued on his path to Arthur's heedless of the influx of chatter as more servants used the hallways to get to their various destinations. Head bent slightly, he let his eyes study the ground without attention to those coming at him. He didn't flinch when his shoulder collided with another's, he didn't raise his hand in greeting to the handmaid Sara; he didn't react when his name was called.

He entered the Prince's room to find it empty of Arthur. Spying on the table Merlin sat down and picked up the first boot. As he scrubbed at the leather, he allowed his mind to wander over the events of the past. _Was it really just this morning that Gaius and I had gone to pick herbs and he helped me to learn about all those plants? Then we were attacked and that guy saved us! I never thanked him for that. I wonder if he is awake yet? I should check on him, Gaius would be pretty busy with Oliver's body._

_Oliver was Arthur's personal manservant, what if they killed him to get him out of the way so that they can get to Arthur? Surely a servant wouldn't have been much of a challenge. Why the need to kill him?_ Merlin sighed, as he examined the boot in hand. Satisfied, he placed it down on the ground and moved to the next one. _ Protect Arthur. How am I supposed to protect him? I can barely keep myself alive. I don't understand, why me? I am a slave. I can't do anything. He's got the wrong person. He was mistaken, that's it, he has mistaken me for someone else. _ The slave set the matching boot next to the other. He grabbed the ceremonial boots and looked them over carefully.

Quirking an eyebrow, Merlin rolled his eyes; _these shoes are practically new, why do I need to polish these? _Shrugging, he set about finishing the boots; he was just setting them down when the door opened and Prince Arthur walked through. Glancing up, the slave watched as the Prince paused as he took note of him in the room. When he continued to stare Merlin felt the need to inquire, "Sire?"

"The first day of your arrival, where were you?"

"With Gaius, the Court Physician, Sire."

"And after that?"

"I had to spend the night as I fell down the stairs on my way, my lord." Red stained his cheeks, and he had to look away.

"I will have Gaius confirm this, of course," Prince Arthur informed distractedly.

"I'm sorry about Oliver, Sire."

The Prince looked confused for a moment before he nodded.

"Carry on, then."

The Prince walked over to his desk and sat down.

Merlin glanced at him briefly, as he reached over and plucked up his breastplate. Blue eyes met blue eyes, the first looked away, concentrating on the task at hand. Sounds of a quill scratching on parchment mixed with the soft rubbing of cloth on metal.

_Kick keech kisssh kich skriiick_

_Eeeii Eee eeeee_

Merlin set the final piece down, and leaned back in the chair, arching his back until he felt several satisfying cracks break the silence. He froze. The slave realized he didn't hear the scratching of the Prince's quill nib; turning he met Arthur's eyes. They stared at each other unblinkingly; the Prince's eyes were hard so Merlin looked away quickly.

_Why is he staring at me? Did Gwen say something? Did he?_ Merlin's hands twitched, he clenched his right hand and released it several times. The feeling of his eyes boring into his side caused an unconscious response. The slave hunched his shoulders and ducked his head before he reached for the gold circlet. Carefully he cleaned every surface of it.

Slowly, Merlin relaxed his shoulders as he heard the scratching on parchment once more. Holding the circlet up close, he turned it over and around scrutinizing every facet.

"What will your new crown look like once you are Crown Prince?"

"That is it."

"Oh."

With reverence, the slave set the circlet on a velvet pillow, his hand caressing the edge of the tasseled pillow.

"The King's crown is even more ornate and large."

"I did see it the night I served you, before I got thrown into the dungeons."

He chanced a glance over at the Prince who was smirking at the memory. Thinking back on that night the slave frowned.

"What about the Queen? She wasn't there that night."

Arthur didn't answer; his eyes were locked on the quill in his hands. He turned it over and over, his fingers playing with the feather. Merlin studied the Prince, eyes searching his face before dripping to Arthur's hands. Realization slapped him in the face; he felt the blood drain from his face.

"Oh-uh, I-I didn't-"

"My Mother died soon after I was born."

"Sorr. I-um-don't-uh—"

"I have only seen her crown a few times, but there is a painting of my Mother down in the vaults."

"The vaults…?" _Why would the only painting of the King's wife, Arthur's Mother be in the underground vaults?_

"Would you like to see her?"

Merlin's eyes snapped up, disbelief and surprise written on his face. Arthur's fingers ran over the feather as he waited for the boy's answer. When the slave didn't immediately reply, the Prince stood and motioned for the boy to follow him. Merlin pushed the pillow back from the edge before he hurried after him.

The trip was a short one, not nearly as far down as the cavern with the dragon but to Merlin it might as well have been. He threw his hands up to cover his mouth as a yawn took him by surprise. Peeking over at the Prince, he was glad to see that he hadn't caught the yawn.

They came to a stop before a locked gate where Arthur pulled a set of keys from his belt and unlocked it. Hinges squeaked as the Prince pushed it open. Merlin squinted into the darken vault, he skipped back to the nearest lit torch and brought it with him. He came to stop where Arthur stood gazing up at a large painting, easily the size of Merlin and then some. The slave watched the Prince as his eyes drunk in the strokes that made up the only image he had of his Mother. He watched as those blue eyes moving back and forth, as his lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

The slave turned his attention to the painting with its ornate gold frame. A deep dark background helped to pop out the soft tones of the fair skinned blonde hair woman. Dressed in flowing white robes with intricate stitching and beadwork. Her delicate hands were resting lighting on her stomach. Her head was adorned with a gold bejeweled crown, which rested on her curls.

Concentration creased the slave's brow as he took a step closer while he angled the torch away from the painting. He gasped slightly, wonder in his eyes. Arthur turned to him, "What is it?"

"You are in this painting, Sire."

"What are you talking about? Are you blind? I never knew my Mother, she died just after I was born, I _told_ you that. There is only one person there: my Mother."

"No. You're wrong."

The slave shook his head, his eyes shifted from the painting to Arthur. The Prince's eyebrow raised in derision, he opened his mouth to ridicule the slave's obvious mistake but Merlin continued over him.

"Look, she's pregnant; with you."

Merlin pointed to where the Queen's hands rested on her stomach, which as the Prince looked more closely, was shadowed with child.

"You had nine months with her, and I am sure she cherished every day of it," the slave whispered.

After several more moments of the Prince studying his Mother with new perspective, he turned to the slave whose eyes were fixated on the plaque at the bottom of the frame. In neat script were the words_ Queen Ygraine._

"Let's go Merlin, it's time for supper."

The slave tore his eyes from the words, following the Prince out of the vault. He barely remembered to put the torch back where he had found it as they passed by on their way up.

_Ygraine…where have I heard that name before? _ Both were silent as their minds were occupied from their experience in the vault. The hallways were bustling with servants as they hurried to finish their tasks by supper. Merlin almost didn't stop in time when Arthur paused to speak with Gwen, who he didn't see, so preoccupied was he. The boy dropped his eyes as he heard them converse easily; he studied the slightly uneven flooring. It was only a moment later that he listened to the Prince bid her well as she continued on her way.

Arthur's brow creased, his eyes darted from the slave's bowed head to Gwen's retreating back. Turning back around he led them to the hall where he is to dine with his Father, Morgana and the visiting King. They came to the door just after King Severus and his manservant entered; Merlin avoided everyone's eyes.

Taking his place behind the Prince, he stared resolutely at Arthurs cup, which had been filled prior to his arrival. The soft sounds of silverware chinking against plates filled the air as the royals conversed over supper. Leaning back against a wall for support, the slave locked his knees in place, one hand covering his mouth; another yawn attacked him. His eyes flickered around the room, Prince Arthur had King Severus' attention with his Father occasionally inserting. The slave's hand dropped to his neck, his index finger tugged at his neckerchief when his eyes caught the Lady Morgana's. Her head tilted in his direction, her green eyes clouded with concern. Flushing, Merlin dropped his gaze once more, his hand still fiddling with his neck.

The scraping of a cup on the table brought his eyes to the table, a quick glance confirmed his suspicion. Approaching her side, the slave tipped his pitcher to refill the Lady's cup when her hand darted to the sleeve of his shirt, a quick tug and her hand was gone once more. Turning to move back to his spot, he gave her a tiny shake of his head and resumed his spot. She sat back against her chair, her mind elsewhere.

_Protect Arthur…_Blinking, the slave glanced toward the Prince who was nodding at something his Master was saying. The shift of shadows next to the slave took his attention away from the table over to the Ulbein servant, the one who was currently serving his Master. _Draco._ The sudden need to swallow a lump in his throat caused the slave to clear his throat as quietly as he could.

_Ahem….Ughh._ Furrowed brow, merlin put a fist to his mouth, coughing. His breath wheezed from his lungs, the tightness of his throat elicited a deep, loud cough. It echoed in the room causing conversations to cease. The slave used his fist to pound his chest, as his face grew red from the lack of air. Grey spots pulsated in his vision as his lungs screamed for relief. His fingers lost their strength; the pitcher fell. Knees collapsed beneath him as he lost control, he slid down the wall; coming to curl in on himself. He didn't hear the scrapping of a chair as a delicate hand rested on his arm; he didn't register the lack of clanging as the other servant caught the pitcher as it fell. He didn't see the servant stumble as Arthur pushed him out of the way in order to reach Merlin. A heavy hand crashed against his back.

_Thump thump thud._

The slave gasped as his airway cleared on the third hit. Coughing, he waved the Prince and Lady Morgana away, his face burned red. Weaving, he used his hands to brace himself as he staggered to regain his original place.

"Sorry. I-uh-choked," he rasped.

Arthur didn't respond, he merely raised an eyebrow, which merlin took as a question.

"Erm, on air. I apologize, my lords and lady."

He bowed long enough to show deepest apologies, while clearing his throat discreetly. Straightening, he nodded to Prince Arthur who paused for only a moment longer before resuming his seat. Picking up his goblet he took a drink and set it back down as his Father engaged him in conversation.

The slave gratefully took back the pitcher from Draco with a dip of thanks; he glowered back. The meal continued with a distinct lack of contribution from the Lady Morgana, leaving it to Arthur to exchange words with the King.

"If you will excuse me, my lords; I shall retire early."

The Lady Morgana's eyes were on neither as she stood up, the men rose with her, whose brow creased in worry, nonetheless King Uther bade her goodnight. Her eyes darted to Arthur, who nodded politely, then over the shoulder of their visitor before she left the tag. Pausing beside the slave, she requested a tonic be delivered to her.

"Of course, my Lady."

The soft rustle of fabric followed her out the door as she retreated, aware of the sets of eyes at her back. A dull click announced her complete departure. Arthur regarded the door over his shoulder, he sat looking at it a moment before he bid the slave forward with a crook of his index finger. Stepping forward, Merlin bent to hear him, "Be sure to have Gaius giver her both a headache and sleep tonic. Be off with you, the other servant can serve us."

Nodding, he left the pitcher with Draco, who sneered at him as he gave it to a kitchen aide and grabbed a newly refilled one in time to attend Uther. Merlin quietly closed the door behind him, turning he yelped as he crashed on his bum. Scrambling to his knees, he bowed down, apologies spilling out of him like water from a waterfall.

"Ah, this must be the slave sent to help us."

Merlin glanced up at the unfamiliar voice to see two men arrayed in the armor of knights, blue and orange identified them by their families' crest on their chests'. The one in blue had dark hair and about a weeks growth of a beard white the while the other had sandy colored hair and a clean-shaven face.

"So it would seem, Sir Ethan."

"Well, hurry up boy."

"I-uh-" Merlin glanced back at the door, which led to the dining hall; he swallowed and rose to his feet.

"We require our meals in our rooms, see to it boy."

"Yes, Sir." _Did Prince Arthur set this up earlier? _Separating, the slave was quick to grab two plates, filling them generously while grabbing an apple and bread for himself. He stuffed the bread in his mouth, and armed himself with the two plates, hurrying out the kitchens with a nod to Maryanna. He stopped just outside the door; _I don't know which rooms they are using._ Biting his lip he starts off in the same direction as King Severus' chambers are. _Ah, the task manager would know, as rooms would have been prepared for them. _Backtracking, he stopped the nearest servant and asked for directions.

Approaching the appointed door of Sir Oswald, the slave balanced one plate in his left hand, and shifted the other plate to rest on his forearm. Breathing out, he allowed a small tingle of magic to escape causing steam to rise from both plates.

_Knock knock_

"Enter."

Merlin entered the room as bidden, careful to keep the plates balanced in both hands. Lounging on the chair was Sir Ethan, who barely spared him a thought. Standing a short distance off was the grinning face of Sir Oswald. Swallowing at the less than friendly atmosphere, Merlin set the plates down with a faint tap on the table.

"Is there anything else you require, Sirs?"

"Ah, that chest over there was brought while we were away and as such is not placed properly," Sir Oswald complained.

"Where would you like it?" The slave inquired.

"Over here, by the bed."

Bending down, Merlin wrapped his arms around the chest to the metal rungs on either end and pulled. His thighs trembled with the effort; _Oooof!_ Shakily, he was able to stumble up and waddle over to the side of the bed. He set the large chest down with a loud thud, groaning as part of it hit his foot.

"No, that won't do, it's in the way there," Sir Ethan protested. "The other side then."

Once more the slave took it up in his arms and moved it to the other side, his face turning red as he leaned it over to set it down.

"I must protest, now it's in my way."

The slave leaned his forehead on the edge with his hand on either side, listening to the two knights as they discussed the optimal placement. _Why did they bring so much stuff? The tournament is only a two-day event!_

"Yes, I agree. Put it on the dresser, _boy._"

The slave nodded, gulping, he braced his legs and back for one final move. Back muscles trembled in protest as he used his knee to get it higher and a better grip. He struggled to lift it over his head, even resorting to using his head to push it up the last little way. A final push and it was almost there when the clasp failed and the top opened right above him. His magic flared before he could even call it up. Just as his eyes glowed, he flinched in anticipation. The clanking of swords together was his only warning, two newly sharpened swords tumbled through the air, impaling into the stone in between the slave's feet.

Merlin swallowed reflexively, he had felt the sword fall in front of him, a whisper from his chest. _A little bit closer and they would have hit me._

Snapping out of his daze, he quickly picked the fallen items up and shoved them back into the chest; securing it with a makeshift clasp until the original could be repaired. The knight dismissed him after shoving the plates into his hands. Bowing, he exited their chambers and made his way through the halls into the kitchens.

_Gaius will have eaten by this time. I wonder if his patient has woken up already? I should bring something back for him just in case. _ Efficiently, he cleaned the plates after tossing the remnants away and tried dried them. Keeping one of the plates, he filled it with plenty of food, and left without anyone paying attention to him. The hallways were lit with flickering torches, which cast dancing shadows across his path. He met very few other servants along the way as most had finished their jobs already and gone home.

Icy fingers caressed his neck, causing the hairs to stand on end. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw no reason for his reaction. Shrugging, he rounded a corner and climbed the stairs to his temporary quarters. Toeing the door open, he smiled softly at the older physician who was bent over his table and his bubbling brew.

"Is our patient awake, Gaius?"

Gaius turned, a smile on his lips at the boy's use of _our._

"I believe he is still awake."

Relieved, Merlin raised his hands, displaying the plate of food he had procured for him. Nodding, the older man turned back to his table one hand shuffling papers over a scroll as the boy passed. The few words the slave saw were familiar with the exception of one. _H.u.n.i.t.h._ _Is that a plant we haven't covered yet? I wonder what its uses are?_

He tapped on the door to the room at the short stairs and waited for a response. Hearing none after a brief pause, Merlin debated on whether or not he should enter. Lifting the hatch, he peeked around the door to see the man partially propped up; his eyes flickering open as if he had heard the boy's quiet approached.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you but I brought you some food in case you were hungry."

"I'm always hungry and thirsty; definitely thirsty. Brought any ale have you?"

"No, I didn't. Sorry. Shall I go get some?"

"Ah, well, best not. I am not so sure it would have reacted well to the things the old man gave me."

"Gaius. His name is Gaius, the Court Physician."

"Court Physician? To the royal house?"

"Yes. Don't worry, he is the best in Camelot," the slave was quick to reassure him.

"I am Gwaine, and you are…?"

The slave blinked at the man, a small smile on his lips, "Merlin. I am Merlin."

He approached Gwaine, handing over the plate of food before moving back to shuffle from foot to foot, under the man's scrutiny.

"What's your relation to the Court Physician, do you know a noble or something?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I am a slave of King Severus who is visiting for trade negotiations with King Uther. I am helping him out while the negotiations continue."

"Not related to the nobles, that's for sure. I knew I liked you."

"Thanks…Prince Arthur seems to be a good person. Noble, and not just by birth, yet still can be a bit of a prat."

"Must be in the blood," Gwaine smirked irreverently.

Merlin chuckled for a moment, before he caught himself. He dropped his eyes in self-reproach._ Oh!_

"Sorry, I forgot I have something to do!" The slave fled out the door to the main room.

"Gaius, the Lady Morgana requested a sleeping tonic as well as something for a headache."

With practiced ease, the old man plucked two vials from a shelf and handed them to the slave, identifying each for the boy's benefit. Nodding in understanding, he made to dash out when a bright red garment caught his eye. In the corner laid over the changing screen lined up, cleaned and mended were the Prince's clothes. _Gwen must have finished these early._ On a bench adjacent to the screen was the Prince's sword, sharp and gleaming. Something warm rushed through his body and he momentarily felt his throat tighten but differently than from before. Bending down he carefully slipped a vial into each sock and made sure that his boots held them in place securely. He then grabbed the hangers in one hand, carefully slipped the sword into his belt and grabbed the chainmail in the other hand. Hefting the load slightly, he left the chambers and made his way to Arthur's.

With his arms full, he kicked the door lightly before backing in to find the Prince reading at the table. He looked up briefly at his entrance before going back to his papers. Merlin laid the chainmail out be the armor and then removed the sword. He hung up the clothing finally before turning to the Prince.

"Is there anything else you require, Sire?"

"No, that will be all Merlin."

As he bowed, he saw the Prince's eyes shift from him to the table with all the pieces for tomorrow laid out with the exception of his lance.

"Oh, and one last thing, Merlin. Tomorrow I will be using my Father's old sword from his coronation tournament."

"If you are using his sword, why did you have your polish and sharpened?"

"One because it needed it, two my Father's sword has been dulled, per tournament rules."

"Dull? Tournament rules?"

"Of course, it would be unwise to use sharpened blades in the tournament where I am officially the crowned Prince. Should I lose, which I won't, it wouldn't do well to die; now would it?"

"So the knights will be using dull blades?"

"Yes, of course."

_Dull blades? But, why did Sir Oswald and Ethan have sharpened swords?_

"You are free to go."

Slowly, the slave backed away and let himself out. Arthur watched amused as a strip of black got caught in the door.

"Ow."

A sharp tug and the piece of the slave's neckerchief disappeared from view. The Prince rolled his eyes as he looked down at the scroll in hand, a smile on his lips as he muttered under his breath, "Idiot.."

-0-0-0-0-

Noting the lateness of the hour, Merlin quickened his step on his way to the Lady Morgana's room. He ducked into the hallway that led to behind the tapestry opposite her chambers. He could barely hear footsteps behind him as he ducked out form behind. Pausing, he lifted the edge enough so he could peer out. In the distance he could make out the colors of an Ulbein servant as they passed by. Letting the tapestry fall back into place, he thought briefly on the servant. _It's pretty late for them to be out. I wonder what he is doing in this part of the castle._

He stood facing the door to Morgana's chambers, his hand poised to knock. _Wait, I shouldn't be delivering this; a handmaiden is supposed to attend a Lady, but I don't know where Gwen is. Maybe she is still with the Lady morgana._ His hand struck the wood three times. He stood completely still as he waited to be bade enter, or the door opened. The silence stretched over several minutes and Merlin had to force himself not to shift from one foot to another.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he leaned to knock once more when heard a woman's voice inside. He put his ear to the door and strained to hear the words. Still unable to decipher the sounds, he dared to crack the door open and call out into the darkened room.

"I have the potions you requested, my Lady."

The rustling of sheets answered his call and he moved to shut the door, berating himself for daring to open a woman's door, at night and alone.

"No..no..Please! Run! Arthur!" Her panicked cried stopped and further whimpers had him moving forward without thought. The door clicked shut behind him. A breeze of magic had the candles nearest her flare to life, allowing him to see her trembling and twitching form. Sweat beaded her forehead, causing the long wavy hair to become matted to her face.

"My Lady!"

The slave tried to call softly, so as not to startle her too badly from the throws of her nightmare. She didn't respond to his soft voice. He took another few steps closer, and raised his voice some.

"My Lady, are you alright?"

Her head turned in his direction, her forehead creased in distress. Trembling lips mouthed words he could understand. Her hand twitched on her pillow, before falling to her side, convulsing grabbing at the blankets twisted around her writhing form.

Unable to bear her whimpers, the slave sat partially on the bed, one hand coming in contact with her now limp hand. The room dissolved around him. Voices melded together. He saw Arthur blinking slowly, he saw King Severus leaning in; harsh words seemed to drip from his tightened lips. He saw colors and the flash of silver in the light. _A dagger!_ He saw knights frozen in place. He felt pain. It exploded from his middle; he felt his hands coming up reflexively. He could feel warmth seeping out of him. He looked down, the hilt of a blade stuck out of him.

"Oh,"

The soft exclamation was almost drowned out by screaming. A woman's scream. _Morgana? _He felt himself falling backwards. His back hit the ground with a dull thud and Morgana's room came back into focus but the pain lingered.

_Oww…._

AN:

HDS

12-15-2012

EDIT: I change Neville to Oliver, caused I used too many names from one of the only British books I've read. :-P


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Frantically, the slave grasped his stomach. His hands didn't find the hilt of a dagger as he had expected. _Breathe in, out, in, out…_The pain ebbed to a dull throbbing and he was able to regulate his breathing. _What was that-? _His thoughts were interrupted as his ears registered the sound of quiet sobbing, echoing throughout the chambers. It pulled at Merlin through his haze and back to reality. Gingerly, he first propped himself up on his elbows, then pulled his legs down and turned over onto all fours. The slave staggered to his feet, teetering to the bed.

Wild green eyes darted back and forth in the space in front of her, hands fisted tightly in her blankets. Morgana sat tense, tremors running through her body. Merlin steadied himself on the bed with a hand.

"Morgana?"

Her head snapped to face him, tears welling up. Long black curls caressed his neck and teased his face when he found himself with the Lady Morgana's arms thrown around his neck. He felt her body trembling against his; he felt her tears soak through his shirt as she borrowed herself into his chest. Any thought he might have been able to ponder deserted him as he sat frozen, his hands still on the bed, on either side of Morgana. Candles flickered against an unseen force around them, and the slave eyed them warily.

Gulping, he angled his head so that he might look down at the woman clinging to him, like he was her only lifeline. Licking his lips, he balanced himself so that he was able to pat her back with his newly freed hand. He was relieved when her sniffling subsided and her trembling stilled. He replaced his hand on the bed and waited for Morgana to come to herself. When he felt her stiffen, he looked away and murmured, "Are you okay, my Lady?"

She drew back with a gasp, causing he bed to rock as she scrambled away, pulling at the sheets as she went. Keeping his eyes properly averted, he reached down and pulled the two vials free from his stash. He held them out to her and waited, arm outstretched.

"The tonic you requested. I am sorry I was so late, you had to suffer because of my tardiness."

"Why were you late, Merlin?"

"Two knights who arrived for the tournament requested my services and it took longer than expected, my Lady."

"Why did you attend to them first?"

"Per my station, it is the right of those above me to use my services at their command. I was unable to refuse their request."

"That's awful. So if a kitchenmaid asked something of you-"

"Then I must comply without question."

The slave surmised from the slight tremble in her voice that she was horrified by such a notion. His arm started to prickle from the strain of holding the vials out for a period of time. He uncurled his fingers slightly, causing the vials to shift, clicking against each other. The sound brought Morgana's attention to the vials. Feeling the weight leave his hand, the slave sighed and allowed his hand to fall to the bed. His other hand sought out the limp one and gently he kneaded the muscles in a bid to ease the discomfort.

"Thank you."

The words were spoken with difficulty, eyes averted. Merlin stood, his shoulders rigid.

"I will leave you to your sleep, my Lady."

"Merlin?"

The slave paused, his back still to her but he inclined his head in her direction.

"Could you put out the candles, except the one on my bedside?"

"Of course, my Lady."

Quickly, he puttered around the room, cupping his hands behind the flames and blowing them out. He could feel her eyes on his back as he did so, his back stiffened at the attention. The soft pop of a cork being pulled from one of the vials sounded close to him as he blew out the last candle with the exception of the one nearest her. He retreated back to the door, as he turned to close it after him, he saw Morgana lean over and snuff out the final candle before settling back into bed.

He closed the door with a barely audible click and turned to leave. A yelp escaped him as iron hands seized him by the front of his shirt and slammed him backwards against the stone wall. Pain sparked up his back and up to his neck, he was barely able to keep his head from also being abused by the wall. Red filled his vision as two guards lay hold upon him, their spears crisscrossed at his neck in an X formation. Merlin opened his mouth to ask a question but the one on his right pressed the sharp blade closer to his vulnerable skin; he remained silent.

"HEY! What are you doing?!"

Merlin's eyes shifted over to the side, unable to turn his head. _Gwaine?_ Quick, angry footsteps thudded against stone as the man approached. His eyebrows were pointed down sharply, his mouth frowning. Two other guards intercepted the man Struggling against them, he was able to jerk one arm free, which he slammed into the nose of the first guard, then using the momentum, he smashed his fist into the jaw of the other. Merlin's eyes were wide as the guards bodies crashed to the ground. Gwaine picked up a fallen sword.

"Now, are you going to let him go or do I need to persuade you too?"

The guards glanced at one another, their spears wavering slightly. They straightened as another voice demanded, "What is going on?"

"Sire, we received a report of a man entering the Lady Morgana's chambers, when we arrived we found no one there. We waited for your arrival, during which time we caught this man exiting her chambers. He must have been in there for several minutes."

Prince Arthur raised an eyebrow at the slave who had remained silent.

"And him?" he jerked his chin at Gwaine who had lowered his stolen sword.

"He tried to interfere when we apprehended the intruder."

The groans of the fallen guards made their timely presence known.

"And the Lady Morgana, what did she have to say on the matter?"

Eyes darted to the guard who responded promptly, "We didn't dare enter her chambers, my Lord."

Sighing, the Prince strutted forward past the guards and the now restrained Gwaine. He eased open the large oak door. The faint sound of breathing floated through the darkness. Lightly, Arthur crept his way to his adoptive sisters bedside, tear tracks stained her cheeks, _another nightmare?_.

"Morgana?"

When she didn't answer or move, Prince Arthur glanced at her bedside where the two vials were; one empty and on it's side, the other full and untouched. He picked up the empty one and brought it with him. He gently closed the door behind him, turning to face the guards who were eyeing the other man distrustfully.

"Merlin, why were you in Morgana's room? You are aware that only handmaidens are to attend to the Ladies of Court?"

The slave nodded until one of the blades started to cut into his neck.

"Yes, my lord. I was already bringing her requested tonics; by the time I got there, Gwen, her maidservant, was already gone. So, I meant to hand it to her and leave but when I didn't hear her, I almost left. Then I heard her and though she had bid me enter; instead, I found her caught in some sort of bad dream. When she awoke she was distressed. I waited for her to calm so that I didn't aggravate her already delicate state. I then gave her the vials, blew out the candles and left just as she took the sleeping draft. That's when they-er-found me. Gwaine was just trying to help. Please don't-"

The Prince raised a hand, and Merlin closed his mouth without further protest. His blue eyes shifted from him to the man who once again came to the aide of the slave. Arthur waved his hand towards the guards.

"Release him. And Merlin, next time, find a handmaiden."

Once he saw the guard removed the spears, Arthur spun on his heel and marched back to his chambers. Merlin rubbed his neck, smearing a small trickle of blood from a thin cut. The two guards collected the other two and they left with a glare. Gwaine glared back as they passed him. Merlin waited until they passed around the corner before he sagged against the wall.

"Thank you."

"This seems to be a habit with you, my friend."

The slave's shoulder hitched, his hands coming together, his left thumb massaging his cupped right hand.

"So what brought you this way, Gwaine?"

Said man came to stand beside the slave and slid down to sit next to the boy. He watched the boy as he turned to him.

"I was looking for you, actually. You left in such a hurry and didn't come back, I got worried."

"You were worried about me?"

"There's something about you, Merlin. I can't place, my finger on it."

Merlin looked away.

"Part of my philosophy; nobility is defined by who you are not by blood. Here you are lowest of stations and yet you are nobler than half the _knights_ I am willing to bet."

There was an edge to the man's voice as he spat the word _knights._

"Why do you dislike nobles? Prince Arthur isn't _so _bad. I mean, he can be a prat but…."

The man looked around before he leaned a little.

"My Father, he was a noble, until he died in Caerleon's army and left my Mother and me without a penny to our name. When my mother went to the King, for help, he turned her away. My Father's sacrifice was for a King who couldn't be bothered with a widow in need."

"I am sorry."

Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder, a quick half smile before he stood extending a hand to Merlin. The slave reached up, allowing him to be pulled to his feet. They spared a moment to dust themselves off.

"Uh, so, how _do_ we get back from here?" Gwaine peered out both ways.

Merlin walked over to the tapestry and pulled it aside, revealing the passageway. Gwaine raised an eyebrow.

"And you say you weren't spying on the lady?"

He laughed as the slave's face burned red. Gwaine teased him on the trip back, ensuring that Merlin's face wouldn't return to its normal shade.

"Where have you two been? I feared something had happened to you. Are you ill? Why is your face so red?" Gaius questioned.

Chortling, Gwaine summarized the nights events for the physician as Merlin remained silent, his eyes looking anywhere but the two conversing men.

"Merlin! You _must_ be more careful, if your Mo—King had heard about this, I fear what would become of you."

The obvious distress in his voice caused Gwaine's amusement to slip from his face.

"Why? What do you mean, Gaius?" Gwaine queried.

"Nothing! Overreacting—" A quick look from Gwaine and Merlin bit off his protests, choosing once more to find something else to occupy himself with.

"King Severus isn't known for his calm demeanor. In fact, there is some gossip as to why they do not have an heir. They say he barely touches his wife."

"Is she unpleasant on the eyes?"

"No, from what I understand she is quite beautiful," Gaius replied.

Merlin nodded his head in agreement and then stopped, realizing that he was bringing attention back to him.

"There's something wrong with a man who won't touch a beautiful woman; especially his wife," Gwaine scowled.

"Well, it was an arranged marriage, of course. In fact, if my memory serves me, there was some debate about whom he would be betrothed to; it was between two women. One was then betrothed to another and so, by default, his Queen was chosen. Again this is the gossip of the Ladies of Court," Gaius cautioned.

"I still say there's something wrong with him." Gwaine crossed is arms.

Merlin was struck by a though, his eyes darted around the chambers.

"Where's Oliver?"

Gwaine looked confused so Gaius clarified, "The Prince's former manservant who went missing. It was assumed that he deserted his post. Merlin found his body in the vaults today. I had his body moved so that it would not disturb our rest."

The slave crinkled his nose at the thought of sharing space with a dead man.

"How did he die?" Gwaine asked.

"I found hemorrhaging in his eyes. Suffocation. As well as a stab wound to his lower back. Someone wanted to make sure he died."

"Poor bloke."

Gaius and Merlin nodded in agreement at Gwaine's assessment.

_Aughhhh._ Blinking, Merlin covered his mouth as a yawn seized control.

"It's late, we should retire," Gaius admonished, shooing the boys upstairs.

When they opened the door, Merlin realized that there was only one bed. Spying extra blankets and sheets, he set about to making a place on the floor. He grabbed his night clothing and proceeded to change. He barely registered the gasp as he pulled off his shirt, his back to Gwaine, and slipped on the ridiculously large robe of Gaius'. Once finished he moved to lie on the floor.

"Mate, I can't take your bed from you."

"You are injured, you should take the bed. I am used to sleeping on the floor, I don't mind. It's easier this way, as I will need to get up early tomorrow and this way I will not disturb you."

Gwaine tried to protest but the slave was already lying down, using his clothing as a makeshift pillow. Gwaine started down at the boy. A long moment lengthened between the two. Squinting, Merlin called up to him, his voice rough with weariness, "Can you be sure to put out the light?"

"I will, Merlin."

Gwaine watched as the stress of the day melted from the boy's body as he quickly succumbed to sleep. Glancing around the room, he opened some drawers, only one of which contained clothing. The bottom one contained one ratty blanket. Gwaine removed it and draped it lightly over the skinny boy on the ground. Merlin snuggled under the new layer of warmth and sighed contently. Gwaine smiled before he settled down on the bed with a slight wince. _ Ugh, guest of a noble._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Merlin blinked,_ Mmmmm…_ He looked around noting the hard surface beneath him but the warmth surroundings was new to him. His eyes strayed to the window, light was just barely able to be seen. Cool air assaulted his thin frame as he relieved himself of the blankets and heaved to his feet. He changed, adjusting the black neckerchief as he left the room. Shivering, he added a log to the fireplace; he glanced over at Gaius before back to the logs. A flash of gold and a small fire licked eagerly at the dry wood. He left the room to the soft snores of the old physician.

The slave jogged down the hallways twisting his way into the depths of the castle. He slipped through the gate with a torch from the hallway in hand, and tapped his way to the bottom. Looking around he saw that the golden scale dragon was resting on the large rock outcropping. Giant rumbling sounds carried throughout the cavern, sending vibrations through Merlin. The slave took several steps forward, mindful of the edge, he watched the sides of the dragon as they expanded with each breath.

"What worries you, young warlock?"

"It's Arthur. We found his manservant who went missing around the same time I arrived. He's dead."

"That is troublesome. Did he go missing before or after you arrived?"

"I heard about it the morning after we arrived. I am not sure when exactly it happened."

"That will tell us if he was killed by an insider of Camelot or someone from Ulbein."

"But what purpose would it serve for an Ulbein to kill Prince Arthur? The King is quite fond of the Prince, it would not curry favor with the King; just the opposite."

"Be careful, Merlin, or you may find yourself a target on their quest for the Prince. Be vigilant, always; Albion is counting on you."

Merlin skidded backwards a foot or two from the force of the wind created by the powerful thrusts of the dragon's wings. The slave watched until the dragon was out of sight, eyes wide with awe. He shook himself out of his staring and quickly made his way up through the castle. A glance at the position of the sun had him sprinting past the few servants and guards walking the hallways. He threw his hands out as he fell through the air, pain flaring in his ankle. Merlin landed hard, skidding a few feet until he bumped against the wall. Wincing, he braced himself up by his elbows, _Aughhh. _ His eyes focused onto the space in front of him, down the hall a man turned around; he saw the man's lips turn up when their eyes met. Ice ran through his veins, gulping the slave scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over himself when he glanced back to find the guard gone.

He knocked on the door, waiting several minutes until a terse voice bid him enter. Gulping, he opened the door, his shoulders tense as heat burned his neck.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Are you alright?"

Merlin looked up from where he was making the Prince's bed.

"Hm? Yes, yes. Fine."

"Right, well, we will be going down to the field in an hour for the melee. I'll need the dulled sword of my Father's. In about half an hour, I will need to be dressed and ready for the opening ceremony."

"Yes Sire." Merlin flittered about, straightening things. Grasping the finished plate, he backed out of the chambers and dropped it off at the kitchens. He paused on his way back to lean against the wall, pulling his left leg up and massaging just above his ankle. He sighed, brow furrowed.

"Merlin?"

Teetering, the slave threw his hands out, catching himself on the wall. Flushing, he straightened, and averted his eyes.

"Yes, my Lady?"

"I just wanted to see if you were okay?" The Lady Morgana peered up at the slave, her green eyes cloudy with concern.

"Well, there is one thing….my Lady."

"What is it?"

"What do you know about armor?"

Morgana's eyes cleared with a wry smile, "Arthur, right? He just assumed that you know how to, figures. Meet me in the armory."

Merlin waited several moments before he started after her, allowing for an appropriate amount of time and distance between them. Entering the armory, Merlin looked around, squires and servants were bustling in the rooms, gathering armor and swords for the upcoming event.

Sam approached him from a side room, as he passed by the slave he motioned with his head to the room he had just exited. Dipping his head, Merlin followed the hint and found himself in a room dedicated to just armor. Most of the light came from a high window, casting an ethereal glow off of the polished armor. Standing just off to the side, the Lady Morgana stood, her hand tracing the intricate pattern glinting in the rays of sunlight. Her skin already fair seemed to glow under the touch of the sun. For a moment Merlin forgot to breathe. _Get a grip!_

"My Lady?"

Her hands fumbled with the piece, slipping through her fingers and clattering to the ground. Merlin hurried forward to pluck the piece up from where it fell, handing it back to her. Pale pink kissed her cheeks as she took it back from the slave.

"I apologize, my Lady, I did not mean to startle you."

"No. It is fine, I was caught up in memories."

_Sad Memories._ The slave held his tongue, instead turning his attention to the armor already out and stepped back to a more appropriate distance.

"Tournaments revolve around traditions and etiquette. Part of that is making sure that they are properly attired."

She proceeded to outline the sequence of clothing and armor as well as their purposes. As she explained each piece, some he knew and some he didn't, she strapped the armor on the slave. When she finished Merlin dared not move for fear he might tip over and unable to get back up.

"Okay, now repeat it back to me."

The slave did as requested, only moving slightly to motion to each piece.

"-and helmet," Merlin tipped his head, the slight shift in weight caused him to start to fall forward. He leaned backwards to compensate but the weight was too much and he clattered to the floor, metal ringing throughout the room. The fall knocked the helmet off and it rolled against the leg of the table.

Ringing filled his ears, he lifted his hand in an effort to stop the sound. As the metal ringing faded away another ringing continued. Angling his head he was able to see the Lady Morgana, one hand to her mouth attempting to stifle laughter. He grinned ruefully, as he attempted to get up; he ended up looking like an upside down turtle on his back, attempting to right himself.

Morgana took pity on him; she knelt down, unbuckling the pieces individually. Free of the awkward armor, the slave was able to get to his feet, his face aflame.

"The melee approaches you better hurry back to Arthur," the Lady Morgana urged.

The slave knew she was right, he bent over to shrug off the chainmail, and it pulled his shirt up slightly. The smirk Morgana wore at his worming out of the armor dropped as a portion of his skin showed. Eyes wide, her hand lifted to touch the bare skin before she remembered herself and she looked away. The shirt righted itself as he straightened and turned back to her with his hair mussed up in the effort.

"I am in your debt my Lady. If you have need of anything, please let me know."

Mechanically, she nodded her head and waved him off. He bowed and hurried from the room, dodging servants as he exited the armory. Shaking his head, in an attempt to clear the cobwebs he felt being weaved in his mind, he momentarily lost his bearings.

"Oooof!"

Air exploded from his lungs as he collided with a solid mass. He stumbled backwards, arms wind milling. The slave looked up frantically, terrified he'd hurt someone. It was Sir Oswald. Merlin's eyes zeroed in on a crystal necklace that shifted into view from the force of the collision. Merlin was drawn to its surface, as he fell, time slowed to a stop and he peered at the surface where he saw a murky image. Focusing on the picture, his eyes widened as his mind exploded with thoughts. _That's the face of the bandit who attacked us. How is he also Sir Oswald? Is he the one trying to kill Arthur? Does Sir Ethan know about this? _His blue eyes burned gold as they shifted to Sir Ethan, drawn to a spot on his chest, beneath his clothing where he was sure another crystal hung. _It's both of them!_

Time snapped back into focus. Sir Oswald's hands latched around the collar of the slave's shirt and jerked him forward. The doppelgänger's eyes were merciless as he whispered, "I have a _special_ task I need you for _whelp._"

The slave's legs fumbled as he fought to keep him up as the knight dragged him behind the armory. Sir Oswald tossed him against the wall, back slamming into the stones. The slave's eyes were wide. _ Too many around to defend myself!_

Sir Ethan and Oswald pulled their swords free, advancing on the slave.

"What do you think you are doing?"

The fake knights turned to find the Lady Morgana striding towards them, eyes blazing. Hastily they replaced their swords. Sir Ethan stretched forth his hands out in a placating gesture.

"We merely were giving a new task to the boy: polishing our swords."

"You'll have to ask another servant, Merlin is to be attending Prince Arthur right now."

Taking his cue, the slave slid sideways against the wall in an effort to put as much distance between him and the knights. He bowed hastily to Morgana as he ran back up to the castle. He glanced over his shoulder to see the knights leave with only a few more words. He sighed in relief.

He skidded to a stop at the Prince's door long enough to knock once before he burst into the room. Prince Arthur rolled his shoulders as he paced the floor.

"I apologize my lord, I was detained."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, letting a breath out slowly. Collecting himself, he straightened and held his arms out. Understanding, the slave grabbed the padded jacket and tied it together, next he struggled to lift the chainmail high enough to get the Prince into it. Camelot colored tunic belted at the waist preceded the breastplate the slave secured at the sides. Once he secured the last piece before the helmet he checked the Prince over. Placing the helmet in the crook of the Prince's arm, he stood back and nodded in satisfaction.

The Prince stood there, staring at the slave. Merlin stared back. Arthur's eyes darted to the table and back to the slave, dipping his head as he raised an eyebrow. Merlin smiled lightly.

"_Mer_lin."

"Yes, Sire?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The slave murmured all the parts under his breath as his eyes identified each piece in its proper location. He shrugged bewildered.

"My _sword?!"_

The slave grimaced at his blunder. He grabbed the sword and moved to hand it to the Prince but Arthur grabbed it from him and stormed to the door. Merlin opened it for him, and moved aside, wincing as the Prince grumbled under his breath. Securing the door he followed him down to the arena. The whole field and stands were adorned with colorful strips of cloth and flags with various knight emblems, though Camelot's were certainly more abundant.

Merlin quickened his steps so as not to loose the Prince in the crowd, nearly bumping into a knight in yellow with a shield designed with three snakes entwined. He skirted past the man, glancing back as he thought he heard hissing.

"_Merlin!"_

The slave faced front, ambling to the Prince's side next to a tent designated with Camelot's crest.

"Sire?"

"Make sure my horse is prepped and ready."

"Horse, Sire?"

"Yes, the melee starts on horseback and on foot if you are dismounted."

"Yes, Sire."

Merlin hurried off to find the area where the horses were being attended to. Dozens of horses were being groomed near the entrance to the arena. Among the squires was Sam, who greeted the slave excitedly.

"Wow! This will be your first tournament, right? You are lucky to be attending Arthur. I expect you are looking for the Prince's horse? That's him over there. Tyr, is the official stablehand for him, he is the one between the chestnut and white horses. Camelot's crest on the side, see it? I must be off!"

Merlin just stared after the squire who scurried away with a wave before he went over to the horse indicated. Tyr turned out to be a slightly shorter than the slave man who was a bit on the round side with a gentle disposition. The stablehand knew what the slave came for, handing over the reins before pointing out a few things regarding the steed. He spoke quietly but with ease that spoke of his experience. Merlin listened closely, only stopping him to ask for clarification, which the young man did without arrogance or derision. When he finished, Tyr rubbed a hand lightly over the horses' nose before dipping his head and leaving to attend to another horse.

Trumpets blared as the tournament commenced with the King's speech as the knights stood at attention.

"This should be a treat, eh? All the nobles strutting their stuff like peacocks."

A smile brightened the slave's worried face as Gwaine's voice sounded on the other side of the horse. He walked around the front of the horse to join Merlin. The smile dropped from his face as Merlin turned worried eyes towards him.

"Gwaine, I don't know what to do. Arthur's in danger."

"What makes you think that?"

"The bandits that attacked us in the forest, they're here!"

"Where? I didn't see their ugly mugs."

"They're masquerading as knights: Sir Oswald, and Sir Ethan. They have some sort of crystals that allowed them to take on their forms."

"We must inform the King."

"We can't! He would never accept the word of commoners over that of their supposed knighthood." The slave shook his head frantically.

"Why do you think they're out for Arthur?"

"They have swords that appear dull, but are razor sharp to the touch. I was nearly impaled on one."

"That's not good. I've seen these blades in action; forged by sorcery. Well, that won't do."

The rogue's hand went to the sword at his hip. He fingered it thoughtfully.

"Alright, I'm in."

"What?! No! You can not. You'd be impersonating a knight, the punishment for that is severe."

"Eh, what's life without a few deserved risks? Not worth living, in my opinion."

Merlin gaped at the man who sauntered off, almost certainly to his death., all for a man he barely knew. _The King will kill him if he were to find out. _

A/N:

Well, I hear that the latest episode was quite the….er, well, episode. Lol, which I have NOT seen yet, so, don't tell me what happens; even if I beg and plead. It's for the betterment of this story that I do not become influenced by the original story.

Must. Not. Give. In….

H.D.S 12/22/12

Special thanks to DairyMilk123, who helped to shape this into something more readable. Go Ireland!

+ If I missed anyone, it's only because I am incompetent and not because I don't appreciate you, cause I do. All of my readers are AWESOME! +

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And if you don't celebrate that then…..have an AWESOME day, no matter what you celebrate! Cause we are all….awesome!

If I have time I hope to post a little treat on that day, so look forward to it. :-D


	14. Christmas Special

AN: This was just written all at once, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes…..

Random Extra Scene: Special Christmas Interlude.

Shivering, Merlin rubbed his hands together, his breath coming out in small puffs of white clouds. Pink tinged his nose and cheeks, as he continued to warm his hands together by rubbing them vigorously. _Why is it so cold?!_ He took the opportunity to look out a nearby window and his mouth dropped open. The window was foggy. He dragged his arm across the window, clearing a small space. Peering out of it he saw strange white clouds, clouds that were falling. There were hundreds of these white flurries that were floating down from the sky until they met the ground and lay there.

_What is that?_

"Have you never seen snow before, Merlin?"

Merlin looked over his shoulder to find Prince Arthur standing there, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow raised.

"Snow? Is that what those white things are?"

He returned his attention to the window, his hands braced on either side of the pane as he pressed his nose against it, trying to get a better look. Within a few moments, the window was again foggy. Another swipe of the arm, and the slave was back to watching the sight of this thing Arthur had called 'snow'.

"Merlin, I need something out in the courtyard. Follow me."

It was not a request. Dutifully, the slave glanced once more out the window before he followed in the Prince's steps. Every so often, Merlin brought his hands together in front of his face and breathed warm air into them. It helped, for about a moment, before they were once again aching. Each step seemed to bring them closer to the cold of the outside. More than once, the slave had to catch himself on a particularly slippery patch. He noted that Prince Arthur didn't have such problems. _Perhaps, he got some sort of training when he was younger? How to walk in the cold without slipping and falling flat on his face, humiliating himself and the crown. Not fair._

A gust of cold wind assaulted the ill prepared slave with his thin shirt and breeches. Shivers wracked his body as he fought the urge to freeze in order to preserve body warmth. When the Prince didn't stop, Merlin groaned and forced his feet to continue after him. Out in the open, Merlin could readily see his breath coming out in puffs of white. Tremors shook his body without ceasing, and he really didn't care to see the strange white descending clouds anymore.

"Keep up Merlin!"

Easy for you to say, with your fur lined coat, and dense breeches, and thick woolen socks stuffed into boots. He wiggled his toes in his own worn boots; he grimaced at the pricks of pain at the effort. Grumbling to himself, he sped up his pace, and tried to follow the Prince but it was becoming increasingly harder as the visibly fell as a blanket of white seemed to envelop them as they walked from beneath the covering of the castle.

A stiff wind nearly knocked the thin-framed slave off his feet. He gasped at the extreme cold that seemed to freeze his lungs with each breath he drew. The ground beneath his feet seemed to crunch as he tried to find Prince Arthur. Feeling his ankles becoming wet, he glanced down and saw that the ground was also covered in white. The white was soaking through his boots. Bending down, he used his index finger to prod the white substance and found it to be very cold, wet, and slippery. Hunching down, he examined the substance more closely. It was solid and yet, somehow it was as not. As he shifted the crunching echoed against the quiet, causing him to look down at his boots. Moving his foot, he heard the crunching again. He straightened and brought his boots up and down repeatedly. The crunching followed each time the boots came down on the white snow.

_Strange. _

"Why does it-?"

The slave trailed off_, where is Prince Arthur?_

"Prince Arthur? Sire?!"

He could barely see a few feet in front of him, he turned, more white. _Which way did we come from? Which way did the Prince go?_ Blindly, he stretched his hands in front of him and tried walking a few feet.

"My lord? PRINCE ARTHUR?!"

crunch. crunch. crunch.

Spinning, the slave tried to identify where the sound of boots on the snow was coming from but they were still too far away. Merlin wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his hands up and down vigorously as his body convulsed in the cold. Breathing into his hands, he shifted the sleeves of his shirt until they were covering his hands. _So cold_. His feet were starting to prickle again. He stamped his feet in response, creating crunching sounds that echoed around him, eerily_. Where could he be?!_ Small flurries of the white snow kicked up as wind blew in, casting the blanket of white aside for brief periods of time, he was able to see in the distance. He saw a flash of green and brown, a tree he thought, the gray stones of the courtyard. Flash of Camelot red_. Arthur!_ Jogging forward to where he had seen the brief glimpse of what he was sure was the shirt of the Prince; he called out ahead of him, "Sire!"

When he had gone several feet, he paused, his eyes darting around the area; waiting for another blow of wind to clear the air, if only briefly. Merlin threw an arm in front of his face as a large burst of wind threw snow in his face and eyes. Through a small opening under his arm, he could see the back of the Prince.

"Prince Arthur!"

The brown jacket didn't move, he was standing in front of a tree if the brief glimpse of dark green covered in patches of white was anything to go by. _Is something wrong with him? Is he hurt? Why isn't he moving?_ It took him a bit longer than he would have liked to make it within a few feet of the Prince. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed onto the back of the jacket and pulled. It dropped to the snow. Shock marred the slave's face, his eyes were wide, his mouth dropped open and hand still outstretched.

"MERLIN!"

The slave spun at the sound of the Prince's yell. He staggered backwards, face flared in pain; blinding white covered his eyes and dripped down his nose, mouth and chin. Wet seeped through the back of his shirt and pants as he lay in the snow, his mind frozen. He could hear the crunch of the Prince's boots as he ran towards him. Wind threw the Prince into perspective; he stood before the slave, grinning from ear to ear. His nose, and cheeks also pink from the cold. In his gloved hands he tossed a ball of white, snow Merlin presumed up and down.

"I see you have meet the snowball's acquaintance. Great isn't?"

"Wh-wh-wha-t?" Merlin's teeth were chattering against the sudden assault of snow.

"It's a snowball. We throw them at each other. It's fun."

"Fu-un? To be cold? You call that fun?"

"Sure. Try it. Come on. Give me your best shot. This will probably your only chance."

"Oh, no, I couldn't my lord. It wouldn't be proper-"

"Proper? I give you permission."

"-to beat you so sorely that it would cause you great embarrassment should the knights find out about your utter defeat."

"Oh ho. Brave words, from the man laying down in the snow. Defenseless."

"Who said I was defenseless?" Without missing a beat, the slave curled his hand and brought it up, with a little help of his natural abilities, hurled a wave of snow at the unprepared Prince. Arthur staggered backwards in surprise at the abrupt barrage. Grinning, Merlin gathered as much snow and packed them into balls, as his nearly numb fingers would allow. Chucking one at a time in order to throw the Prince off balance. He heard the cries of outrage, as the Prince had to dodge several so he was not hit.

"What was that, Sire? Oh, you surrender?"

Sputtering, the Prince threw several of his own balls of snow at the slave, who weaved with barely a flash of unseen gold.

"Me, surrender? NEVER?!"

Merlin grinned as the Prince rejected his offer. _You asked for it._ The air became thick with different size balls, some loosely and other hard packed.

"Ow! I thought you said you hadn't seen snow before?"

"I haven't"

"Then how can you-"

"-be so amazing? Just natural talent. It's hard to explain, to one who lacks it."

The Prince grinned back, and the slave saw it. _I have a bad feeling about this._ Sure enough, balls of ice were slamming on either side of the boy in rapid sequence, and he was hard pressed to move in time to miss them; having had to resort to using magic to help. Laughter filled the air combined with shouts of outrage and pain. Completely spent, Merlin collapsed in the snow, arms numb. His cheeks were so red that it looked like he had been attacked by a crazy woman; who smeared rogue on him liberally. A giggle escaped him now and again as he remember a particularly spectacular throw, which caught the Prince unawares in the face. The snow had slowly dripped from his face as Arthur opened on eye to peek over at him. The grin which took its place had worried the slave, and rightfully so as he was attacked with several snowballs at once; getting hit multiple times, though not as many had he not indulged in his natural abilities.

Closing his eyes, he was able to somehow not feel the cold that was surrounding him and just lay contently for the first time in a long time. A tingle zipped from his toes to his shoulders and neck the same time as a shadow feel across his face. Opening one eye he squinted up to see the Prince standing over him, the sun shining behind him, casting a shadow over his face. The slave opened the other eye; he blinked. The Prince raised his arms above his head, which Merlin noted were held together as if he held something in them. Held something...uh oh! Merlin tried to roll to the side, but he was too late. A cascade of white showered him and he was not proud to say that a very unmanly scream burst from him.

_Aiiiiieeeeeeee!_

"ARTHUR! You'll pay for that!"

The slave scrambled to his feet, slipping several times, as the Prince ran away laughing hysterically. Of course will say that is what caused him to fall, and not the fact that he slipped. Landing face first, it was as if by magic that it turned out that way. Fortune smiled upon Merlin as he was able to slide on his knees, somewhat painfully, to the Prince's side; his hands full of snow and with a swiftness that belied his small and usually clumsy frame he pulled back the shirt and jacket of the Prince and dumped the handful down his bare back.

It was the Prince's turn to scream, quite shrilly in Merlin's opinion. It was several more minutes of horseplay with the other trying to one up on the last. Finally they both collapsed. Chests heaving, breath coming out in short pants of white puff.

"I-I can't feel my fingers! Issss th-at ba-add?"

"Wh-aat's the-e matt-ter, Merrrrrlin? To-o-o coo-old? Y-you-u s-sou-nd lii-ke a g-url."

"Lo-ok whose ta-alkin-gg."

They caught each other's eyes and burst in more hysterical laughter.

"Hey, Ar-thur, what's that?" The slave pointed to a spot in the distance where a light glowed.

The Prince squinted, "Ah, a stable. Looks likes someone's there."

"Oh. Why?"

"Well, sometimes if they're traveling and there's no room, they will stay amongst the stable animals; it's actually quite warm in there."

"No room? It's soooo cold outside."

"They should be fine."

A faint sound caught Merlin's attention.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"It sounded like a woman. She was crying or yelling? Uh, maybe both?"

The Prince stopped making funny faces at the slave and titled his head in an effort to hear what apparently only the slave could.

"You're right. I wonder if they need help..."

Merlin was already up and held a hand out. The Prince grasped his arm just below the elbow and allowed the boy to pull him up. They started over towards the stable, when they heard it more clearly. It sounded as if the woman was in pain. Serious pain.

Picking up their pace, they were almost upon it when a new sound filled the air, that of a baby's cry. Prince Arthur threw his hand out, which caught Merlin in the chest.

"What was that for?"

"I know what happened. That was a woman, she just gave birth."

"In a stable?!"

The soft cries of the baby quiet, and the murmuring of the woman, tired, and that of a man's voice echoed.

"Come on, we should leave them in peace." The Prince directed the slave back around towards the castle, a slight smile on his face.

"Why are you smiling?" Merlin asked suspiciously, nothing good comes from him smiling.

"Just, it's a good day. That's all."

Merlin cocked an eyebrow, _ooooook._

As they approached the castle, Merlin hung back a few steps, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back desperately trying to quell the trembling of the cold. Standing in the doorway was Gaius, a knowing look on his face as he regarded the two.

"MERLIN!"

An: MERRY CHRISTMAS! Hope you enjoyed this little treat. Look forward to a real chapter on Saturday, I'll probably replace this chapter with the new one. This is a little stand alone piece so doesn't really belong here, but ah well. Maybe I'll post it as a one-shot at a later date...rambling...

Love you all! Did I already say, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Wooo, we're almost at 200 reviews!


	15. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Merlin assumed that the King of Camelot had finished his speech as the crowd roared with enthusiasm and trumpets joined their voices to the throngs. The knights exited the arena, half coming towards the horses and servants where Merlin stood waiting for Arthur and the other half to the opposite end where more servants waited with horses. Out of the sea of metal, a flash of red caught the slave's eye, so he straightened to attention.

The slave held the horse steady as Arthur slipped his foot into the stirrup and pulled himself up and over; settling himself in the saddle. Picking up the reins, the Prince nodded down to Merlin. The slave bit his lip.

"Prince Arthur? There's something I need to tell you. You're in danger-!"

The murmur of the crowd and last minute instructions drowned out Merlin's frantic warning. Arthur clicked the visor in place, nudging the horse forward and into position amongst the other knights, waiting for the signal to charge.

Merlin watched from the sidelines, eyes flitting back and forth between the contesting sides. The signal must have been given as both sides raised their swords; kicked their horses, charged at their opponents, their voices raised to the sky. Swords crashed together, men grunting under the force as they fought to stay on their mounts. Knights steered their horses with leg cues as they twisted in their saddles dodging blades aimed at them.

The crowd roared with delight as the knights they were rooting for took down an opponent or groaned if they fell. The area soon became littered with the bodies of fallen warriors. Merlin tried to keep track of the Prince but with so many knights garbed in various colors, several in different shades of red, he was having a difficult time of it. When the last knight was unseated, the fight turned to ground warfare. With a dozen or so knights still on their feet, alliances were formed. A pair of knights stood out amongst the others, they fought well together as if they had done so before.

The slave swallowed. _That's them: Sir Oswald and Ethan; it has to be. Where's Arthur?_ His eyes darted to each of the remaining knights wearing red. _That one! Or not, he wouldn't fall for such an obvious feint. There he is._ Merlin tracked the Prince's movements with his eyes, looking for an opportunity to intercede should the situation call for it. Shifting his weight from his left foot to his right and back again.

The Prince drew his opponent to the edge of the mass of knights, weaving back as he avoided a wide swipe to his middle. The momentum of the swing left his opponent wide open. Arthur seized the advantage by twisting inside the open space. He brought his armor clad elbow against his helmeted face; following through with a sword strike to his abdomen. The knight collapsed to the ground. The crowd thundered with approval, which turned into a gasp as the Prince turned in time to deflect the blade of a charging knight.

Grunting with effort, he parried the blow slicing downwards with enough force that the man didn't get back up. Applause met the Prince's victory as he took the moment to gather his bearings on the field. He shifted his feet, trying to plant them more firmly on the ground, but he slipped and fell down into the cold mud. At the same time a blade impaled the ground beside his neck and shoulder. Prince Arthur kicked out, connecting with the knee of the knight dressed in blue who had nearly skewered him. His knee twisted and cracked. A muffled roar of pain accompanied the crowd's frenzied yells. Rolling to his feet, he kept a sure grip on his sword; the death cry of a knight barely registered over the tumultuous cheers of the crowd.

His peripheral vision picked up the staggering figure of the man whose kneecap he had severely injured, while at the same time he saw the only other knight charging this one was wearing orange. He turned to deal the final blow to his first opponent but he had divided his attention for a moment too long. His head snapped to one side as his sword dropped from his grasp, clattering to the dirt. His back connected with the same fate as the sword. Arthur shook his head, attempting to clear his blurred vision. A blade flashed overhead in tandem with cries and screams of the crowd. They had seen their Prince fall.

The glare of armor flashed against the fallen Prince's eyes. Another knight plowed shoulder first into the attacker, knocking him to the ground, away from Arthur. Twisting, Arthur saw one last body still in the fight approaching his savior. The Prince spun on his back in a feat of pure skill and used his legs to scissor cut the knight just below his knees. The knight discovered the taste of dirt. Scrambling to his feet, he turned to meet his savior in a final fight. They eyed each other warily, circling slowly. Arthur made the first move. Lunging towards the right, he feinted, going left instead, but found himself blocked by the knight's blade. _He wasn't fooled. He's good._

Twin cries distracted them from each other. They spun to face the other two knights who swung their swords. With his back to his savior, Arthur took a few steps back to brace himself for the attack. His back collided with that of his savior. The knight with the injured knee was facing off with his rescuer leaving the other man to Arthur. The Princes blade arced towards his opponent but it was parried and he had to dodge to avoid it. Spinning around, swords crashed together, each putting their full weight behind it. _How does he have so much strength left?_ Arthur's arms shook at the effort, he pulled back. The knight's momentum caused him to stumble forward. Prince Arthur used it to turn around, slamming his elbow into his back. The knight sprawled face down.

Turning to see who the last opponent was, he found the injured blue knight down for good, _which just leaves my Savior. Ooooof!_ Another bout of unsteadiness had the Prince evade a cowardly stab to his back. His savior sprang forward; a sword in each hand, one blocked a fatal strike to the Prince while the other impaled the orange colored knight. His savior planted a foot against his opponent and kicked him free of the blades. The dead man collapsed to the ground against the silence of the crowd.

They faced each other, chests heaving as sweat dripped down their back and temples.

"You saved my life, the field is yours."

Arthur ducked his head, pulling off his helmet so he could see easier. The crowd roared with delight at seeing their Prince in the finals. His savior glanced around, before lifting the visor, squinting against the harsh sunlight. Arthur shook his head a laugh escaping him.

"I have never seen anyone fight like you do. What is your family name?"

The knight shifted his gaze from the Prince to the crowd, to the King and back. He licked his lips as he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips ruefully. He finally removed his helmet and the crowd fell silent. They shifted in their seats trying to get a view of his family crest. Prince Arthur's eyes dropped, also seeing the knight's crest. He gasped softly, his eyes wide, glancing from his savior to his Father.

"I am Gwaine."

His voice echoed in the arena. Murmurs erupted as members of the crowd asked each other who this knight was. Prince Arthur took a step toward Gwaine.

"You are not a knight? You need to leave, hurry, before my Father sees you. Fake an injury, something-anything!"

"Knights, you have fought well. Stand before your King."

King Uther's voice boomed over the arena. The crowd quieted immediately. Prince Arthur looked over Gwaine's shoulder at his Father, his shoulder tense. Breathing in deeply, Arthur's eyes closed for a moment as he but his lower lip, he stepped away and acknowledged his Father. Beside him, Gwaine slowly turned with his head angled downward as he faced Camelot's King. He tossed the helmet to the ground and looked up, his chin pointed defiantly at the top box.

King Uther pushed himself out of his chair, his red cape billowing with the motion. The smile on his face morphed as his brows drew together, mouth lines plunging down. He brought his hand up sharply, finger pointed at Gwaine.

"Seize him!"

The air exploded in conversation, shouts, cheers and a scattering of boos.

"NO!"

Arthur's caught sight of the slave, his face frozen in fear. His right hand bunched into a fist, trembling. Guards charged past Merlin, shouldering him out of the way, nearly sending him sprawling. They grabbed Gwaine by the upper arm and dragged him from the public's view.

-0-0-0-0-0-

"Merlin, I need you to move the critically injured to the left and the unconscious to the right." Gaius directed.

"What about the dead?" Merlin asked.

"Dead? There will be no dead, dear boy, they were using blunt blades."

"Not all of them. Sir Oswald and Ethan aren't who they appear. They were wearing some sort of enchanted crystal around their necks that made them look like the knights."

"Who are they then?"

Merlin peered around before he leaned in close.

"The bandits that attacked us in the forest."

The physician gaped at the slave.

"How do you know this?"

"They were going to kill me to get me out of the way so they could get to Prince Arthur."

"Kill you-?"

"Their blades weren't dull. They looked it, but I was almost impaled on one. Gwaine said they're forged with magic."

The slave glanced around the arena where Gwaine and Prince Arthur had faced off. Servants were gathering their master's fallen weapons and affects. The slave broke away from Gaius to collect the blades of the fake knights before someone picked them up, thinking it dull and get hurt. Carrying them by their hilts, he returned to Gaius and laid them down just as the bodies of Sir Oswald and Ethan were laid before them.

"Is that Sir Oswald?"

Merlin stiffened at his place beside the court physician who turned and bowed. The slave copied the movement but the King didn't bother to glance his way.

"Yes, my Lord. He and Sir Ethan are dead."

The King jerked from staring at the body to Gaius. His face flushed red, he spun to where Arthur was just coming up from behind.

"The man you were so stalwart in defending took the lives of Sir Oswald and Ethan."

The Prince blinked, blindsided.

"My Lord, before you cast judgment, there is something you ought to see."

Gaius reached down, his fingers sifting through the layers to the cord around the neck of Sir Oswald. He caught the cord and pulled, ignoring gasps from those around him as he repeated the action to Sir Ethan.

"That is not Sir Oswald." Prince Arthur exclaimed.

King Uther gritted his teeth as he eyed the offending crystals, "Sorcery!"

"One other thing, my Lord. Merlin, their swords."

Dutifully, the slave retrieved one of the blades and gingerly brought it forward. The King reached a hand to grab it by the blade, but Merlin pulled back just as Gaius spoke up.

"Their blades were also forged with sorcery, they may seem dull but they are in fact razor sharp."

Uther dropped his hand and took a step back while Arthur moved forward. He held out his hand, Merlin twisted his wrist so that he could let Arthur safely take the hilt. The Prince hefted the blade, angling so he could study the blade. There was no discernible edge that he could see. Bending down to one knee, he grasped a corner of Sir Ethan's clothing between two fingers and rand the blade over it. It sliced it as if it were butter. Prince Arthur looked to his Father.

"Gwaine saved my life."

"He impersonated a knight."

"Surely, this should get some special consideration, my Lord?"

"Fine, he is banished forthwith. If he is not gone before sunset…"

_That's not fair! Gwaine saved the life of his son and he gets punished for it?_ Merlin frowned, his eyes ablaze at the injustice on behalf of Gwaine. He glanced towards the Prince whose eyes were fixated on the fake knights' bodies. Something must have broken through his thoughts because in the next moment Arthur's eyes met Merlin's and both looked away.

"Come Merlin, I want to get out of my armor."

The slave glanced towards Gaius who nodded, before he trailed after the Prince. They wound their way through the mass of tens until they came to his personal tent. Merlin lifted the flap, allowing Arthur to duck inside before he followed him. Immediately he set about to unbuckle the various pieces and remove them; setting them on the table. Silence between the two hung heavy in the air like a wet blanket. Setting the padded shirt next to the chainmail, Merlin stepped back and waited for further direction.

"My Father is a stubborn man."

Faint sounds of people conversing outside the tent hummed in the quiet. The Prince sat down on a chair, rolling his shoulders as he eyed the silent slave.

"There are still two more events, jousting and single armed combat. The jousting will commence after lunch, which will then be followed by some celebrations before dinner. Tomorrow will be the final event before my coronation. I will need my armor polished before the joust."

"So you can scuff it up again?"

"Yes, _Mer_lin, because it is my sole purpose in life is to make your life miserable."

_You'll have to get in line._ The slave started to roll his eyes but he caught himself before Arthur looked over his shoulder at him.

"Yes, _Sire._"

Merlin grabbed his rags as he set about to buffer his armor.

"Meanwhile, I must attend to my adoring fans." Arthur glanced down, wrinkling his nose, "This won't do. I need a new shirt. Merlin, go fetch me a shirt from my chambers."

"Do you want me to buff your armor or grab your shirt?"

"First one, then the other. Shirt first. Be quick about it."

"_Sire._"

There was a barely discernible edge to the boy's words and it brought a smirk to the Prince's face. He crossed his arms as he sat down listening as those outside the tent discussed the melee.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Merlin dodged servants, knights, nobles and peasants as he weaved his way through the masses. He passed stalls where shops were set up, selling everything from jewelry to food to momentums of the melee and coming coronation. The slave had to force himself to not pay attention to the delicious smells emanating from several stalls. At last his feet pounded up the stairs and into the castle. Panting, he ignored the fire that burned within his legs as his side screamed in pain. He let one hand rise to knead his side as he decreased his pace only by a fraction. He saw guards entering a room in a corridor adjacent to the Prince's. _Odd…._

The slave burst into Arthur's room, his eyes seeking the shirt he had previously laid out. Not seeing it, he picked up a shirt at random, carefully bringing it to his face as he sniffed. _Ughhh, no, definitely not. What does he do in these? Roll around with pigs? _ He tossed it aside on the ground and picked up another draped on the back of a chair. _Ugh. Surely not. No, not this one. No. Does he not have even one clean shirt? No. Burn this one. No-wait. Good enough._

Scrambling out the door, he turned to see the same guards exiting a room and entering the one next to it with only a single knock as warning. _With most of the court at the tournament, I guess they won't have much resistance. I wonder what they are searching for._

-0-0-0-0-0-

Arthur's hand snaked out, grabbing the shirt from the slave, who had barely entered before being accosted by the Prince. He shrugged out of the soiled garment and let it drop at his feet as he replaced it with the crisp clean shirt.

"Wait, so you _can_ dress yourself? So, why do you need a servant to help you everyday?"

"Of course, I can dress myself but why should I when I have you do it for me? Can't dress myself? Have you been hitting the cider? Anyways, what took you so long; did you try it on before bringing it down?"

"No, but you dirtied almost every other clean shirt in the castle that I had to fight to find that one."

"You, fight? Ha!"

"I am deceptively strong."

"Consider me deceived then because I do not believe you."

"There were guards coming and going out of several rooms, is that normal?

"They are searching everyone's quarters for the weapon that killed my servant."

"Oliver."

"Sorry-?"

"Your servant, his name was Oliver."

"How did you kn-Nevermind. I don't even want to know."

Arthur departed with a dramatic flap of the tent.

"Finally, I thought the Princess would never leave. He sure does like to hear himself talk, doesn't he?"

"Gwaine?!" Merlin yelped as the rogue's face popped into view. The exile glanced around, before he fully entered the tent.

"You shouldn't be here, if the King finds you—"

"He can't do anything until sunset. Besides, all the guards are busy searching the castle."

"But why would they, search the castle, I mean? The two bandits are dead."

"Are you sure that's who killed the servant?"

"No but who else could it be?"

"The crown has many enemies; especially Uther."

"I'm sorry Gwaine, because of me you got banished."

"Hey I make my own choices in life and I would do it again; for a friend."

The rogue looked over at the slave, who had been staring at the rag in his hand. He looked up at Gwaine's use of _friend_. The corner of the exile's mouth quirked up as he nodded to Merlin, who swallowed tightly; nodding back.

"How about I help you finish that and you can help me pack."

"You don't have to—"

Gwaine had already grabbed a piece and started on it. Merlin watched him briefly before he returned to his own piece. The sound of rubbing washed between them, the air light and comfortable.

Merlin snuck a glance at the man he'd only known for a very short period of time but has already left his mark. _Maybe this time it will be okay. He'll be leaving soon and I probably won't see him after that. Maybe I can call him friend, even if it is only briefly. _The slave allowed the corners of his mouth to lift ever so slightly, his arms swayed back and forth with the movement of the cloth.

Gwaine finished his first piece; he set it down and started on a new one.

Tap…..clat….screee…..chink….

"There, last one."

The slave wiped a hand across his forehead, the sweat dampening the sleeve of his shirt. His hands automatically moved the pieces back into order, straightening them as he went.

"Off we go, then."

They exited the tent together, making their way to the old physician's quarters, Gwaine looking away if any guards got too close. Gaius was already there, with only one patient lying on a cot.

"Ah, Merlin, Gwaine. I was sorry to hear about your punishment, you did a brave thing and saved Arthur's life."

"Look where it got me; typical nobles."

Merlin chuckled lightly and Gwaine grinned in response; Gaius just shook his head.

"I just came to gather my things before I start on my one man journey. Who knows maybe this will turn into an adventure and I'll be joined by an elf and a dwarf."

The slave snorted at the ridiculous notion that such creatures exist, until he glanced at Gaius who didn't look amused. Merlin looked at Gwaine who had a completely serious face.

"Merlin, I should tell you about the time I was at the Full Moon Tavern and this barmaid-"

"Uh, Gwaine, Merlin will be needing to return to the Prince soon."

"Aw, well, some other time. I'll just go grab my things, then."

Gaius watched the slave, who looked after his new friend as he climbed the stairs and disappeared from view. The old physician watched as the boy's face twitched, his throat bobbed, brows pucker; he watched as something changed. The slave's face smoother, eyes blanked and Merlin turned away. Shuffling, he kept himself busy by straightening and wiping up messes. Boots tapped down the steps behind Merlin, who didn't turn around.

"Ah, Gwaine, may I speak with you a moment?"

The sounds of boots moving away told the slave that Gwaine heeded the call.

"I wonder if you might do me a favor. Could you carry a message to Ealdor?"

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, he saw Gaius hand the rogue a sealed letter, which he took with a nod. He watched as they clasped arms before Gwaine turned towards the slave. Realizing he could not avoid it, he faced him fully. The exile quirked a corner of his mouth as he approached; Merlin scuffed a foot against the ground. A heavy hand clapped the slight framed slave on the shoulder, causing his eyes to lift to meet Gwaine's.

"Take care of yourself, Merlin. If you need anything just look me up; I'll be in a tavern."

The rogue smirked as Merlin's mouth dropped open.

"You spend your time drinking?"

"And with some beautiful women."

"Do you get them drunk first? I mean, well-" The slave waved a hand in Gwaine's direction. Gwaine's mouth dropped open; the slave's lips twitched for a moment before he erupted into laughter.

"Oy, harsh mate." He laid a hand on his chest, his face pulling a wounded look. It too only lasted for a second when he chuckled at the slave's wit.

"I'll see you around."

He held his hand out for another goodbye. Merlin came to meet him, and Gwaine pulled him in, clapping him on the back. Separating, Gwaine exchanged glances with Gaius as he left. The door clicked shut.

Sighing, the slave trudged up the stairs to his temporary quarters, opened the door and paused. _Was it always this big?_ The slave picked up the extra blankets and dropped them on the bed. _ This is why I can't be friends; with anyone. I shouldn't have tried. I can't do it. They all leave in the end. Aden, Freya, Mother, Gwaine…_The room seemed bigger, cavernous almost. _ Too big._ Sighing, he shivered and left the room with a barely audible click.

AN: maybe a little delay with the next chapter. I'll try not to but I fear i am coming down with whatever's been going around. Ughhhhhhh, things don't taste nearly as well up as they do down...bleaaaagh


	16. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Blurs of colors streaked in his peripheral vision, snippets of conversation muffled as they blended together. Dodging past an oblivious servant, Merlin windmilled his arms as he sought balance. Without slowing, he careened around a corner barely avoiding a maidservant dressed in a soft lavender dress, _Gwen... _Avoiding her eyes he didn't see her hand rise, pause, then retract. He didn't see her bite her lower lip; her eyes cloudy. He didn't see _her_. He left her with a soft apology. Left her standing still amongst the bustling servants, their bodies anxious with excitement for the next portion of the tournament.

The slave's hands hit the wooden door with all his weight behind it, flinging it open. The door hit the wall at the force and the slave flinched at the sound. The vigor in his steps fled as he saw that the Prince wasn't alone. Sitting at the table with a bowl of fruit between them was his master, King Severus of Ulbein.

The King stood, fury lined his face, "What is the meaning of this?!"

Any response the slave might have been able to come up with fled as pain greeted him. His head snapped to the side, red spreading across his cheek, while a thin line dripped down his jaw and off his chin. Staggering back at the force, his legs abandoned him, sending his body to the ground; braced slightly by his elbows. Turning slightly to one side so that he could roll to his knees, he gasped as a boot connected to with his stomach. He grunted, curling in on himself. Air exhaled from his lips as he curled in further as a second blow made contact.

His addled mind didn't register the scraping of wood against the stone floor. Nor the quick steps, the exchange of words. Nothing registered around the haze of pain. Voices swirled in the faint background. _Breathe: in, out, in, out, in, out. Breathe. Just breathe. _The mantra floated around him, voice soft, feminine, familiar. _Freya. Breathe, Merlin, remember in, out, in, out. _Time passed but Merlin knew not how much; he focused on her words. Somewhere above him he heard a scoff, shuffling then slamming of a door.

Merlin slowly uncurled himself, he could feel his muscles loosen, his magic thrumming beneath his skin. He could feel a weight settle on his shoulder. The slave's hand twitched, fingertips curling very slightly. _Breathe: in, out, in, out. _With slow movements, the slave adjusted himself, rolling onto his back. He pulled his ankles towards his body so that his knees were bent, relieving his lower back of tension. One hand left the ground, wandering, searching, prodding his tender side. The slave forced himself to not react as his fingers found their target. Breathing out slowly, he probed the area carefully. Feeling a tenderness, he tested it for some give. He found none. _No broken ribs. Okay. Okay. _

"Get Gaius!"

Blinking, the slave turned his head and stared up at the Prince, who was standing next to him; giving directions to the guard. Merlin's hand tapped its way up on to the Prince's foot. Arthur continued his instructions.

_Tap tap_

"Make sure he has his-"

_Tap TAP TAP_

"-bag, he might have broken ribs-"

Merlin's lips twisted, he raised an eyebrow at the Prince's lack of shift to attention. _I could just call out to him, or..._Curling his fingers into a fist, he raised it as high as he could and slammed it down on the top of the Prince's soft leather boots.

"-and internal bleedi-OW! What was that for, _Mer_lin?"

"You were ignoring me, your pr-highness."

"I wasn't _ignoring _you but now I think I should."

"I don't need Gaius, I am fine, just a little sore. Nothing I haven't had-can't handle."

"Is that so? Then why are you still on the floor?"

"Tired. Didn't get enough sleep. Did you know that this floor is actually fit for a Prince? Here, try it. Come on." Merlin patted the ground next to him.

"No. I am most certainly _not _going to lie on the floor. Neither should you. Come on, up you get."

Arthur bent down and pulled Merlin to his feet, where he swayed briefly as the blood rushed from his brain at the sudden change.

"See? Fine."

Arthur eyed the boy skeptically but he did look steady. Letting go of his arm, he studied the slave; but he held himself up without wavering. The Prince sighed.

"Belay that. He's fine."

"Yes my lord." The previously silent guard confirmed before he left the two alone.

Arthur turned back to Merlin, who had been looking down at his shoes.

"Are you sure you are alright? I can get someone else to take your place."

"No! I am fine, Sire, please."

Panic surged through the slave at the mention of being relieved of his duties. _If I don't serve him, I can't protect him. _

"If you are sure-?"

"I am, my lord."

"Very well. Time to proceed to lunch. You sure you are OK to serve?"

"Why if I didn't know better, I'd say you were worried about me."

"Don't be ridicoulous. The last thing I need is to have the females fawning over the _poor _servant, that the evil Prince Arthur worked till he fell over."

"Sounds about right to me, _Sire_."

Merlin steeled himself with a deep breathe as he proceeded to the door and held it open for the Prince. Closing it behind him, the slave allowed himself a brief moment to grit his teeth before he turned and follow Arthur.

"What is it with you and Gwen?"

"Sire?"

"You are avoiding each other. Why?"

"I do not know what you mean, Sire."

"Fine, play dumb."

The slave's face twitched; the corners of his eyes crinkled, mouth tightened before its released. Arthur noticed. Nevertheless, he didn't mention it to the boy, instead choosing to focus on his path. He observed those he passed without acknowledgement. He vaguely recognized several of them but there were many he didn't. There were also a sprinkling of Ulbein servants in the mix. He did take note of the blonde whom he had seen around Merlin before. This one had a faint scar on one side of his face but that's not what caught his attention. _It' s his eyes. They're hard, and they're always on Merlin. _ As the Prince moved to pass said servant, he made it a point to look down into his eyes and make contact. The servant immediately dropped his gaze from Arthur's and in the next instance they were directed at the slave at the Prince's back.

The servant's eyes fairly smoldered with an intensity that surprised the Prince. _Why such vitriol at Merlin? What could he have possibly done to incur it? _He glanced over his shoulder to watch as Merlin avoided the Ulbein's servant's gaze. First looking to the side, then to the front right and finally resting on the space just in front of his own feet. The moment passed.

The balance of the short trip remained in silence. They arrived at the same time as Morgana and Gwen. Prince Arthur allowed the women to proceed him. Merlin was quick to open the door on their behalf, face averted with eyes downcast. Morgana bestowed him with a slight smile and Gwen ghosted past him. He remained in place until the Prince entered and finally himself. Arthur stood beside his chair and waited until Merlin had assisted Morgana with her seat before he took his seat Gwen remained in the background just behind her mistress.

The two royal conversed lightly as the servants set the food out.

"So, do you aim to take the tournament again this year?"

"As if there was any doubt; this one is different. Camelot is counting on a win. This will prove my worth to the kingdom. Prince Arthur titled his head up, his jawline strong in the afternoon light.

"It _would _ be such a _shame _ for you to lose with _all _of Camelot watching."

The Prince's jaw flexed at Morgana's dig. His brow frowned as he leaned his elbows on the edge of the table with fingers laced together; chin resting on top.

"Oh, I needn't worry. Why should I with you cheering me on; victory is assured."

"Cheering you on? Why Arthur, whatever gave you that idea? Don't flatter yourself." The King's ward replied loftily.

A smothered explosion of air, quickly turned cough, had the Prince glance over his shoulder to glare at the slave, who rearranged his face into a wide-eyed, brow raised expression. _I don't think he bought it. _Clasping his hands behind his back, Merlin corrected his posture with barely a wince. The Prince shifted his attention back to Morgana. She smirked triumphantly at him.

Arthur started to say something but the crashing of the door against the wall had him out of his seat, reaching for his small dagger. He forced his hand to stay when the Ulbein King strut in, a smile on his face when he caught sight of the Prince.

"Prince Arthur, that was a splendid display this morning. I particularly enjoyed the elbow to the face."

"Thank you, my lord."

The Prince regained his seat as the King sat next to him, leaving the Head Seat vacant for Uther. Merlin observed from the back as the two men conversed. He saw the shoulders of the Lady Morgana stiffen as she leaned back in her chair, her hands laced on her lap. Shuffling over a few steps, the slave had a better angle from his new position. Prince Arthur leaned towards the King, his head bobbing in agreement at his words. Merlin made it a point to keep his head bowed, yet still attentive incase there was something any of them needed. The slave rolled his shoulders, brow furrowed. Tilting his head briefly, he straightened before swallowing. _What is that? Something's wrong. _He looked around, his eyes catching sight of the plates and steaming plates of food. Several servants were milling around, laying out last minute pieces of food and silverware. _Where's the King's servant? He is always in attendance. I don't think I have ever seen Draco miss a meal. Odd. _

The door opening interrupted his musings, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see King Uther enter the room.

"Ah, Severus, enjoying the tournament thus far?"

Severus straightened in his seat, his hands coming to rest on the table as he looked over at his long time friend.

"Indeed, it was such an honor to watch Prince Arthur put on a very impressive display. You must be very proud of him."

"The hopes of Camelot rests on his shoulders. It is quite a burden to bear but I am confident that I have raised with the ability to hand it."

Arthur shifted slightly in his seat. King Severus smiled as he turned to the Prince and once again engaged him in conversation, with Uther listening and nodding periodically. Morgana sat quietly in her seat, her hands making quick work of the food on her plate, not contributing to the on going conversations. Uther would make a comment and she would smile tightly, her eyes drifting to the visiting King before dropping back to her plate. A few minutes later, she used her napkin to dab at the corner of her mouth before she set it down.

Fingering her cup, she nodded her thanks as Merlin approached with pitcher in hand and refilled her goblet. He backed away and waited for the next time he would be needed. The slave stiffened as he felt a presence slide over to him. He tried to roll his shoulders to relieve the tension.

"Merlin, I wanted to-"

The slave moved a few feet away causing the maidservant to stop talking. Shoulders hunching, he strained his ears when he noted that there was a pause in the conversation. Seconds later Arthur started a new topic and Merlin released a breath he had been subconsciously holding. _That was close._

"That was delicious I-"

A quick knock on the door broke into Uther's words. The door burst open to admit Sir Leon, two other knights and two guards. Immediately they bowed as Uther stood.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion?!"

"I apologize my lord, but you asked to be notified immediately when there was a break in the search for Prince Arthur's manservant, Oliver's, killer."

"What did you find?"

Sir Leon reached into his belt and pulled out a simple dagger crusted with blood. King Uther walked around the table and approached the knight who held it out for inspection.

"Where did you find this?"

"In the guest chambers currently being used by King Severus' people."

All eyes swung to the visiting King who had stood as well, Arthur at his side and Morgana who remained seated, her eyes wide as they zeroed in on the dagger. Merlin glanced from the blade, to Prince Arthur, to his Master, to Morgana who held his gaze. He read the fear in her eyes, he swallowed as his throat suddenly felt dry.

"Which room?"

It was King Severus who posed the question.

"If you would allow me to show you?" Sir Leon directed the question to Uther, before shifting to look at Arthur. The Prince's jaw was clenched tight. The King nodded tersely, allowing the knights to precede them out of the room. Merlin hesitated, unsure of his position in this matter.

"Merlin."

Hearing the call of Prince Arthur, the slave quickly set down the pitcher and followed behind the Prince. Guards flanked them on either side as they made their way down the hallway. As the procession made their way through the castle, the servants, guards and knights parted a wide path down the center and held their place until after they passed. _It was someone from Ulbein? Why? If so, then why were those bandits so set on killing Arthur? Who?_

They reached the desired hallway, to which King Severus glanced around, "This is the servants quarters."

Two guards were posted around a door three doors down. Sir Leon turned to address the King but stopped when he caught sight of an Ulbein servant coming from the opposite direction. Prince Arthur titled his head to catch a better view and was able to see the blonde head of the same servant he had passed early that afternoon. _The one with the scar._

When the servant looked up, he saw the large group congregated around the room he was aiming for. His steps slowed as he approached. He bowed low, before he straightened and averted his eyes.

"Is this your room?"

The servant glanced up at the knight who had addressed him. Sir Leon waited for the servants reply, which was in the affirmative. The knight nodded to the guards who came forward and seized the servant by the upper arms.

"What-? Why are you doing this? Unhand me!" He struggled lightly but the guards held firm.

"You have been found in possession of the weapon that killed the Prince's servant. What have you to say for yourself?"

"Killed? What? No! I didn't! I'm innocent. Please!"

The servant protested. He shook his head in denial, causing his hair to muss up, revealing his scar on the side. His eyes searched the crowd for someone who could help him. His eyes locked on the Prince, before shifting to the slight young man behind him. In an instant, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes darkened and his mouth angled downward.

"YOU! This is all YOUR FAULT! You-!"

The servant tried to lunge at the slave, arms straining against the hold of the guards. Surprised at the sudden outburst, he was able to free one arm. Quickly the Prince took a few steps forward.

"SILENCE!"

Freezing, the servant looked over at his King who had also stepped forward. His face was dark with anger.

"How dare you! Get this filth out of my sight."

The guards glanced towards the Prince, who nodded, and they removed the servant from their sight. Merlin moved aside as they dragged the servant past him. _Why Aden? Why did he try to kill the Prince? It doesn't make sense. He has never met the Prince before this. _The servant glared at him over his shoulder. The slave averted his gaze.

"I am sorry, Uther, it was one of my servants that brought shame upon the land of Ulbein."

King Uther waved off his apologies, "We should return to the arena, the jousting will be starting shortly." Nodding, the two rulers left side by side.

Prince Arthur waited for them to leave before he turned to his First Knight.

"Sir Leon, where exactly was that dagger found? Was that servant the only occupant of the room?"

"If you would allow me to show you, Sire?"

Arthur nodded his approval, and Sir Leon opened the door leading the room that the dagger was found. Looking about, the room was in order, nothing amiss. Sir Leon proceeded to the side of the room where there was a small storage cabinet. Opening it there were several folded articles of clothing; the topmost one was stained a dark brown. _Blood. He left it where it could easily be found? Not a very smart murderer. _

"The servant was the only occupant of the room."

Nodding, the Prince glanced around the room once more before he motioned for the slave to follow him out back to the corridor. Sighing, Arthur ran a hand through his hair. Silence prevailed as they made their way back to the his tent. They passed peasants who curtsied as they saw the prince, knights who bowed, and contenders who eyed him speculatively. Merlin glanced around, eying those that watched them for longer than he would have liked. _It doesn't make sense why Aden would be after Arthur. Why? Why him? To get to me? No, that wouldn't make sense either; it's too much of a risk for even our history. Attacking a Prince is like declaring war on Camelot._

The slave helped the Prince back into his full armor, his hands moving without his conscious thought. As he strapped on the last piece and handed the helmet to the Prince, he stepped back to double check his work. _No sword, this will be jousting. I'll need to get his lance. _

"Better than last time. Now, I'll need my lance for this round. Meet me by my horse with it."

"Yes my lord."

As he exited, the slave turned back to glance at the Prince who was sitting at the table, his hand fussing with the voiders. _He's nervous._ _At least with Aden in the dungeons we should have an uneventful rest of the tournament and I can rest easy. _Merlin breathed in deeply as he cast his eyes grass was bustling with knights and squires all in a hurry to ready themselves before the King again shares words. He watched as the servants ran back and forth gathering pieces of armor. He watched for just a moment longer before he corrected himself and hurried to secure the lance for Prince Arthur, when he bumped into someone. Fumbling, the slave bowed lightly. A hand patted him slightly on the shoulder bringing his head up to see a dark skinned man looking down upon him. The slave's eyes trailed down his arm to the hand on his shoulder. The man's sleeve rustled at the motion, and Merlin tried to get a better look at his wrist. He seemed to be wearing some sort of leather cuff that had strange ridges on it. Like several small tubes which were used to store long thin sticks; probably no more than the length of the slave's forefinger to edge of palm. _Strange, what would he carry in there? Large toothpicks? _

"Coming out of the Prince's tent, are you his manservant?"

"Temporary one, yes."

The hand gripping his shoulder seemed to tighten momentarily until Merlin glanced from the hand to the stranger. His hand dropped off in the next moment.

"Goodluck to your Master, I am sure the tourney will turn out to be memorable."

"Thank you, Sir."

Merlin bowed again, and stood waiting for the well wisher to continue on his way before he left, per regulations. It took a moment before the man realized that the slave was waiting for him to leave first, one he did he nodded and walked away glancing back after a few moments. Shrugging, the slave moved in the direction of the armory, his mind going over the days events. The whizzing of an insect and feather light tough of it by his neck had the slave slapping to ward it off. He didn't hear the buzzing after that. So focused was he that he didn't hear the gasp of alarm from a squire to his right, and the chatter that broke out at his passing.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The armory was nearly empty at that point, as most of the servants and squires had already collected the necessary weaponry. He allowed himself just a moment to brush his fingers over the finery of the detail work on the lances. Merlin gazed at the spears leaning against the wall next to the open window. He sighed in relief as a nice breeze ruffled his hair and clothing. _ Focus Merlin. Focus._ Turning from the window, his hand reached for Arthur's lance but froze.

_kiickckckkkckkckkkkk_

A thrill of warning zipped across his skin, his legs were moving before he could order them to. Crashing to the ground, he rolled, hands covering his head. Like thunder to his ears, spears crashed to the ground all around him; bouncing off his back and legs, the tips snagging on his back and legs. Tiny pricks of pain littered his body as the final couple of spears clattered to the floor. Carefully he lifted one hand then the other, peering around at the sudden mess. Pulling himself onto all fours, he braced his hand on a nearby table and got to his feet. Wincing, he gather several spears and leaned them back against the wall, repeated the motion several times until the floor was clean. Looking around he grabbed the Prince's lance and left the armory, glancing behind him as he did so. There! His eye darted to the edge of his vision, _I saw something. Just outside...gone. _

The slave glanced around, the back of his neck prickling with unease. Around the armory people were milling around, their voices raised in excitement but Merlin could hear nothing of the specifics, his senses were stretched out, listening, waiting. _Why still? The two bandits are dead, Aden is in the dungeons so why am I still on edge? What else could there be? _

Blaring horns echoed across the field. The slave's head jerked, _the tournament!_ Holding tight to the lance, he angled it so that he could move the most efficiently and yet without danger of running anyone through in his path. The lance bounced in his hand, his boots thudded against the ground, and his breath came out in wheezes. _Ugh, my body feels_ _like one big bruise. I don't know how much longer I can go without a rest, but if I leave what if something happens? What if there is someone else? What if someone is still trying to kill Prince Arthur?_ He sighed heavily,

He met Prince Arthur as he mounted his horse, his visor up and waiting for his lance. Huffing, he approached, only slightly dragging the lance behind him.

"Come on! Merlin, hand it up."

Arms struggling, the slave lifted it to where Arthur was able to grasp it. Visor snapped in place and the Prince moved off angling his horse over to the arena to wait his turn next. Cheers erupted around them as the sound of metal crashing to the ground announced another knight taking a fall. A glance out of his visor told him that Merlin had moved to the side of the arena where he was but just off by a little bit; enough so that he was still on hand in case the Prince needed him. Steadying his mount, Arthur watched as servants got the down knight off of the field and ready for the next joust. Rolling his shoulder, he worked his grip on the lance until he was satisfied that he was secure. His opponent came into sight on the other side. The horse moved slightly in anticipation beneath him, he corrected the horse immediately and waited.

With a jerk the horse leapt forward, Arthur shifted low in his saddle angling his body so the weight is on his side, braced for impact. The sun was high creating glares on all things metal. Squinting, Arthur tried to keep his eyes on the approaching knight, closer, closer, closer still. The tip of the lance was near.

Merlin's eyes shifted back and forth, watching, waiting. _Something's going to happen. Where? Who?_ Worrying his lip, he scanned the crowd. _They're all cheering. Is one of them the assassin? IS there an assassin? Is it the lady with all but her face covered? No. Is it the boy with the flag waving enthusiastically? The man with the flag of the opposing knight? WHO?!_

The slave turned back to watch the Prince as his lance connected solidly with the knights chest. The tip of the lance splintered upon impact, and the knight was thrown backwards off the horse, his foot caught in the stirrup, dragging him through the dirt. The knight bounced as the horse ran the full length kicking up dirt at the crowd. Men and women roared with delight, their flags waving in the air.

Merlin saw the connection, he winced, turning slightly instinctively. _BzzZZzzz. Stupid bugs._ Waving his hand without thought, he smiled when the sound wasn't repeated. Prince Arthur trotted over to the end, and Merlin hurried after him. Helping him down, he held the lance and the reigns for the horse. The Prince pulled his helmet off, raising his hand to the crowd, cheers surrounded the Prince and he smiled in gratification. Up in the top box his Father clapped appreciatively along with Morgana, but when King Severus came to his feet, hands moving quickly the rest of the crowd joined him on their feet. Arthur's smile bloomed to a full fledge grin with laughter escaping.

Merlin was grateful when Tyr came by to take care of the horse while he took the lance to be retrofitted with a new point. Trotting off to take care of it he passed by the area where he and the Prince had waited for the signal to start, there was something sticking out of the wood. Slowing, the slave stepped closer. A thin piece of wood was sticking out. _That's where I had been standing, just behind Arthur. It's not just a stick of wood but a small arrow! Someone shot at Arthur before it started, it barely missed him and hit the wall. It's not over! Someone still tried to kill him and I missed it! If it had hit him_...Weakly, the slave ran his hand along the arrow. _So close._ His hand closed around it, and he pulled. It didn't budge. Looking around, the crowd was busy talking to each other; slaves and knights were making ready for the next joust. The slave set the lance against the wall. The shaft was so tiny that he was only able to wrap one hand completely around it and barely some of the other hand. Bracing one foot against the wall, Merlin pulled. The one hand slipped, causing him to nearly loose his balance but he managed to keep his footing.

_Krrkk_

Bits of rock scraped against his forearms as he braced himself up on his arms. He raised his one hand and look in dismay at the broken shaft. His eyes darted back to the wall where he could barely make out the other part of the arrow still nestled in the arms of the wall. Knowing he couldn't get anything else out of what was left lodged in the wall, the slave inserted the broken arrow into the knot of his belt and secured it there before taking the lance in hand once more back to the weapons-master. After dropping it off, he hurried back to Arthur where he found him talking to the other knights. Standing in the back, out of the way and not drawing attention to himself, he kept himself busy. The slave couldn't hear what the knights were saying amongst themselves as the crowd oooh's and ahhh's were intermingled with the whinnies of horses.

_BzzzZZZz_

The slave's head snapped to the side.

_Thud_

A mere breath from head, still vibrating, was a thin short arrow, identical to the piece lodged in his belt loop. _Arthur! _

_Bzz-_

Grass fingers waved with infinitely small movements, voices all around muffled and unintelligible.

_Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz_-

The buzzing! Merlin focused on the first shaft, noting the angle and adjusted his focus. _There!_ Just over Arthur's shoulder coming in close was another of the small deadly missiles. Blue eyes burned gold. Prince Arthur's feet flew from beneath him sending him crashing to his back in the mud. Grass fingers were once again waving in the breeze as Arthur groaned. With the Prince out of range the arrow continued on it's path straight for the slave. Shifting to the side, the slave watched as the arrow impacted the wood stall just an inch from his chest. The impact had the shaft wiggling in admonishment, and Merlin panting in exertion.

"Sire!"

Merlin's attention shifted to the Prince who was still on his back. Stumbling over his own feet, the slave slid to a stop beside the fallen man. His eyes are shut. _Why are his eyes shut? Did he get hit? No, no, no...Wait._ His hands worked quickly, confirming that the Prince was indeed still breathing, heart still beating. _So why is he not waking up? Oh, bugger. He hit his head when he fell__. Oh, good job. Great, other assassins have failed to kill him but I, a slave, have managed to knock him unconscious..._

"Prince Arthur? My lord? Sire?"

"Ughhh...what happened?"

"Sire! You fell, hit your head. Best to lay still a moment."

The Prince reached a gloved hand up to his head and felt along the back. There was a small mound but he didn't see any blood when he brought his hand in front of his eyes. Blinking a few times, the Prince glanced over at the slave before he groaned.

"Ugh, if you think your face is the one I want to see when I wake up, then there is something seriously wrong with you."

"Oh, would you prefer I fetch Guinevere for you while you faint again?"

"Faint? Passed out. Heroically passed out."

"How is it heroic if you slipped and fell? On your own?"

"Merlin? Shut up."

"As you command, Sire."

The other knights had moved off when they realized that the Prince was fine.

On his back, the Prince wiggled a bit, his legs scrambling to find a hold. The slave watched him, his face struggling to hold back a smile.

"Well don't just stand there, help me up."

"Sorry, I was just enjoying watching you trying to get up. Like a turtle on his back...or a bug."

"Did you just compare me to an insect?"

"A very heroic insect, I'm sure."

The slave held out his hand regardless, and the Prince grasped it and pulled himself up and used the momentum to to switch positions; with Merlin on his back and Arthur standing over him.

"That's more like it."

Merlin stuck out his tongue when the Prince turned his back. Well might as well make the most of it. Stretching out, he laced his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles and stared up at the sky as the clouds meandered overhead. When the Prince turned back around his jaw dropped, "What are you doing?"

"Lying down, isn't that what you wanted?"

"What?"

"Well, you did pull me down here, so I took that as being relieved of my duties. So I thought I might pass the time cloud watching."

"Cloud watching? What sort of nonsense is that?"

"You've never cloud watched? Well, it's where you lie down, like so, and you look up into the sky, provided there are clouds that day, and you watch the clouds finding shapes in them."

"Why...?"

"Why not?"

"That's just..."

"Brilliant? I know. It's no wonder you didn't think of it. Don't be too hard on yourself, you didn't have much to work with."

"Oy!"

"-I put my money on the Prince-"

The murmur of voices coming close wiped the smirk from the slave's face, stiffening he unwound himself from his carefree position to something more deserving of his status. Arms at his side and face averted, he ignored all as the couple walked right up to the Prince voicing their good luck as they walked right over the boy. One foot caught on his side, impacting an already tender area causing him to wince. Once they were an appropriate distance away, he glanced back up at the Prince who was watching him and the passers.

"Come on, time for the next match."

This time the Prince held out his hand and easily pulled the boy to his feet. A few steps behind his temporary master, Merlin trailed after him his mind churning.

"My lance?"

"Oh, right! I'll go get it."

"Hurry on, then."

"Yes, Sire."

Dashing off, Merlin made his way back to the weapons-master where he was just finishing putting in a new tip to the Prince's lance. Just in time. Thanking him profusely, the slave hurried back to his station. This match was more exciting than the last, although he hit his contender the blow wasn't enough to unseat him and he had to go a second round against. The second time it was Arthur who got it an nearly unseated. Merlin winced when he heard the crash of the lance against Arthur's armor. Seeing him still on his mount but merely hunched over he hurried over to him, seeking some way he could help him.

Arthur waved him off, grunting beneath the weight of the metal.

"Are you alright Sire?"

"I took a lance to the chest, of course I am not alright. Help me down."

Taking the lance, he leaned it against the wall while he helped him down. The slave struggled, pain lacing through his body but bared it while he got the Prince down on the ground. Arthur stumbled slightly and Merlin held onto him until he gathered his bearings. Once sure footed, Arthur wrapped an arm over his chest as he shuffled off to the tent cheers at his back. Merlin quickened to stay ahead of him so that he was able lift the tent flap. He looked inside and was relieved to see that other servants had stocked it with medical supplies as well as refreshment for the Prince until his match resumes in a short period of time. Sighing, he started to turn back when he saw something out of the corner of his eyes. Trying to get a better look at it, he wasn't quick enough. An arm snaked around his throat and pulled him backwards, into the tent.

Gagging, Merlin tried to pull the arm away from his throat to no avail. Thrashing, he strained forward, then leaned backwards. Anything he could do to try and lessen the pressure. Releasing his futile hold on the arm, he capped one hand over a closed fist and used momentum to drive his elbow into the gut of the man holding him. The arm released causing Merlin to sink to his knees, gasping for air. _Get up, get up! _Black spots danced mesmerizingly in front of him blocking part of field of vision. Scrambling to his feet, he weaved drunkenly as the dark blur launched at him. He scrambled to put up his arms to fend off a blow. Pain sliced through his arm, gouging deeply the top but slicing cleanly through.

Pain tore from his throat. Water dripped from his eyes without bidding, _Arthur's coming. You have to stop him before Arthur get's here. He'll kill the Prince! I have no choice._ The blur was moving again and Merlin wasn't going to let that happen. Gold blazed in his eyes and the figure was suddenly moving backwards until he slammed into a pole supporting the tent.

_CRACK_

Merlin collapsed to his knees, one hand to his mouth. Stomach roiled, fighting to greet the air but he choked it down. _That was his spine! I-I-I killed him! I killed a man!_ The impact of his body caused the pole to wobble.

_crack_

The pole crashed to the ground taking part of the tent with it. Cloth descended over the slave like a burial cloth to his face and he let it. He watched as it fluttered down over him, covering his vision and just the slight weight of the fabric pulled his body down too. He hit the ground and he rolled over to his stomach curling slightly. _I killed that man. Dead. A corpse. A life taken. _

Darkness soon trailed its fingers over the boy and he welcomed it, descending into it's comforting embrace...

A/N: Wow, so that end differently that I had originally planned. Ah well. What do you think?

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2013! Yay for Merlin Day! It finally came out over here in the states and I get to see it on Saturday's even though it airs Friday night, so for mee it's still Merlin saturdays.

Please read and review all my lovely readers!


	17. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Merghwin-ca-u-ear-e? Murwin-!"

With a herculean effort, Merlin cracked open his eyelids to darkness. _Why is it so dark? I was at the tournament, helping Arthur. Helping Arthur cause he got hurt. Hit in the chest with a lance. Why is it dark? What is that? _Blinking, the slave retracted his eyelids further but it didn't help, he was still surrounded by darkness. Suffocating darkness, all around, closing in, reaching for him. Wiggling, he tried to break free but his arms didn't respond, wouldn't respond, couldn't_. Let me go. Letmego! There_! One arm broke free and he felt around him, there something on top of him. _What? Why?_ Pushing with what little strength he could gather he was able to create a small space between him and the layer of darkness on top. _Light. I want light, I need light!_

Squinting, Merlin looked around. A small glow rested in the small space he created showing him the underside of some sort of cloth. _Why is this on top of me? Where is Arthur?_ More wiggling and his other arm broke free. _Owww._ His already free hand moved to cradle his newly freed arm. Feeling along it he found the source of sharp pain, a deep scratch on the top of his arm. _Okay, not too bad, I work with this._ Gritting his teeth against the throbbing he lifted his hands and pushed the material as far away from him as he could.

"Merlin?!"

The slave's head shifted from one direction to another trying to find the source of the muffled yells. Left, right, up_. Arthur?_ Opening his mouth to call out, Merlin was suddenly wracked with a fit of coughing. He clapped one hand over his mouth to stifle the loud explosions of air. _Need to get up. Get to Arthur._ Shifting, once the coughs abated, he turned to his side, bracing himself up on his knees and hands. _Which way? There._ Obeying a single thought, the light shifted before him, lighting the way. Crawling, he tried to move quickly but found his efforts hampered by the heavy fabric, which seemed to be piled on top of him.

"Merlin! That's it, keep coming over here."

Hand over hand, the slave pulled himself towards the voice_. Not much farther. Can't be. Small tent. Tent? Tent! Arthur! The assassin! He's dead, I killed him. _The distance wasn't getting any shorter, it still seemed so far away. _Oh, I stopped_. Shaking his head, Merlin made a conscious effort to get his hands and legs moving again, forward, towards Arthur. The fabric around him seemed to shift. Merlin paused, waiting. The cloth seemed to sway in some sort of unseen wind. Watching it the slave was struck by image of the cloth flapping like the wings of a bird, lifting him up into the sky.

"Merlin, you idiot, don't stop, hurry!"

_Opps_. Weaving slightly, the slave continued forward, closer to the Prince of Prophesy, to destiny. The glow he held in front of him faded, and for a moment. His breathing quickened and his thoughts ran wild_. Not again. Not again._ Light streaked through a sudden opening and Merlin had to squint against it. There in front of him was a hand outstretch, beckoning him, the fingers waving him forward. Reaching a hand out, he grasped the arm and it pulled him out of the darkness and into the light. Stumbling out, the slave had to squint against the glare of the sun glinting off the metal of the knights armor.

"Finally, what were you doing, napping?"

Blink, blink.

"Sire!"

"Well, who else would it be?"

"Assassin!"

"Assassin? What are you talking about? Did you hit your head?" The golden haired Prince angled his head as if checking the slave for unseen wounds. When his eyes trailed down his shoulders to his arms, he blinked in surprise. Small rivulets of red were skipping down the one arm darkening the shirt he had given the boy earlier in the week.

"You're bleeding."

"Oh, yeah, um that. Might had gotten by a small arrow."

"Might have? Are you touched in the head? Arrow? Wait a second, how did you get hit by an arrow?"

Gesturing, towards the tangled mass of fabric behind him, Merlin told the Prince of the events that led to the collapsing of the tent sans magic. Skeptically, Arthur glanced from the rail thin boy to the tent.

"So, what you are telling me is that you fought off an assassin by throwing him into a support beam?"

Nodding, Merlin licked his lips, while he tried to keep his knees from knocking together and collapsing himself.

"Can you show me about where?"

Merlin looked around, trying to mentally retrace his steps. Carefully, he stepped on the fabric and made his way back to where he estimated the man's body should be_. Woah!_ Windmilling his arms, the slave tried to regain his foot, but he tripped on a large clump of material, toppling over it. His hands tried to find firm ground but they only found a softer lump. _Oh no_. Scrambling backwards until he bumped into Prince Arthur's legs, he pointed. Wordlessly, Arthur moved around him and approached the area sword in hand. _Where did he get that from?_ Bending down, the Prince felt along the ground, trying to discern where the ground changed.

"Sire?"

Startled, Merlin yelped and turned to find himself looking up at the Prince's first knight, Sir Leon. The curly haired man had his own blade drawn as he approached the Prince, his blue eyes calculating.

"If you allow me? You are still injured from the joust and we do not know the condition of this assassin."

The Prince looked about to protest but he glanced towards the slave who's eyes were wide before he looked to his knight. Sighing, he backed off and motioned for the knight to approach and investigate. Taking his place beside the slave, Arthur watched Sir Leon as he too checked for the position of the body before he raising his blade and making several deft cuts in the tent.

"He needn't worry. He's dead. The assassin is dead."

Prince Arthur regarded the boy with weary eyes, _He killed him. He has probably never killed before. Shock. He is in shock. He will probably remember this forever, as I remember my first kill. _

Sir Leon peeked under the tent, his sword ready. When the body didn't move, the knight leaned down and checked for a pulse. Confirmed, he dropped the tent back into place, covering the body from view of those milling around. With careful steps, the knight approached the Prince and whispered his confirmation of Merlin's earlier words. Nodding, Arthur directed the knight to take care of the investigation quietly and discreetly without alarming the citizens and court.

"Up you get, Merlin. We still have a tournament to win."

"Yes, my lord. Um, where shall I tend to your wounds? Your, uh, tent is not fit to be used."

"No worries, here this one will work."

Arthur motioned to a nearby tent and began walking in that direction. Shrugging, the slave kept pace after him only surpassing him so that he might lift the tent flap. The inside of the tent was very similar to the Prince's original tent, Relieved, Merlin was able to find all the things needed easily enough. In a short period of time he had the Prince bare chested and sitting in a chair. Grabbing the linens prodded the developing bruise causing the Prince to wince slightly.

"Nothing broken. Here, this should help with the pain." Handing the tonic to the Prince, he continued in his ministrations, wrapping his chest to bind the tonic soaked linen to his wounds so that it stayed in place even as he went to his next jousting match. When Merlin glanced up, his eyebrows frowned.

"Sire, you need to take that, you won't be able to concentrate with the pain."

"No, I fear this would temper my reaction time and that could be the difference between a win or defeat. No, save this for after the tournament."

"Oh, sorry, I forgot, you're a big tough Prince and can't be bothered with something as plebeian as pain."

"That's right, and don't you forget it."

Prince Arthur smirked at the boy, clearly reveling in his feelings of superior wit; however undeserved.

"On your own head be it."

"Now, what about your arm?"

"My arm, Sire?"

"The one that got shot by an arrow?"

"Oh, yes."

Merlin lifted the aforementioned limb and rolled up the sleeve slightly. Air hissed through his teeth as his arm reprimanded him for neglecting him so soundly. With the tunic out of the way, the slave worried his lip at the sight of deep red against his alabaster skin. Holding his arm at an angle in front of him, he used his free hand poke at the flesh surrounding the crusted blood. "It seems to have stopped bleeding, that's good. Although, it's a little hard to see with all the blood around it. Oh, thanks." Prince Arthur had moved while Merlin was examining his arm, he had dipped a clean linen in a bucket of water and held it out to the boy, who took it gratefully.

Dabbing at the area around the gash, Merlin gently washed off the dried blood until he had a clearer view of his wound. Grimacing, the slave kept washing until it was clean. _Ok, not as bad as it could be_. Setting down the red stained linen, Merlin grabbed another strip and dipped this one into another solution from a vial provided for their use.

Merlin winced, he tried not to let the stinging show on his face. He awkwardly tried to wrap another piece around the saturated solution but it kept unraveling.

"Here, you're obviously too clumsy to do it yourself. Give it here."

Merlin's eyes drifted from his wound up to Prince Arthur's face, "What?"

"Oh for the love of-"

Prince Arthur snatched his arm and moved it over to him, his hands quickly wrapping the linens around the slave's arm. Tying it off, he backed away and nodded to himself, "Good job, I'd say."

"Yeah, thank you."

"Yeah, well, it hurried you up didn't it? Now I need to get back into my armor the jousting will start again in a few moments. Come on...pip, pip."

Merlin snapped to work, replacing the clothing and armor in just a few minutes. Arthur glanced it over, nodding approvingly.

"Right, let's finish this."

Merlin noticed as they exited that the demolished tent had been rolled up and the body removed. One glance showed that the clean up had been dismissed as unimportant and no one noticed the removal of the assassin. Following the Prince back to the arena, he got him situated on his mount with lance in hand just as the last of the crowd resumed their seats. Merlin waited for the starter signal but it didn't come. _What is it? Why haven't they given the signal? Oh, the King. Uther hasn't returned yet. Ah, there he is. _

The King resumed his seat with a wave of his hand that sent cheers into the air as the crowd saw their Prince at the one end. The signal had been given. Merlin watched as his master's horse jumped forward at the same time that the Prince braced himself, lowering himself so that he had less wind resistance. He moved smoothly with the rhythm of the horse's gait. Powerful legs brought the two combatants closer together. The crowd's cheers died out as tension rose with each step bringing them closer to their mighty clash.

The slave's hand rose to his mouth, the tip of his thumb inserted between his teeth. He chewed nervously on the digit, _Come on Arthur, come on. Go! Oooh, watch out! YES! YES! He did it! _The Prince moved ever so slightly, but the slave still saw it. He saw him change the angle of the lance, the tip smashed into his opponent chest, knocking the knight clear off his horse and sailing through the air several feet before he crashed to the ground in a cacophony of metal clanging. Adulation erupted from the stands. Servants, peasants and royals all leapt to their feet clapping exultantly. Merlin pumped his fist in the air, "YEAH!" Arthur slowed his horse as he reached the servants who grabbed the reins, allowing his to dismount. With a flourish, he took of his helmet and saluted his admirers a wide smile on his face. He turned every which way so that every one would be able to see him. Eventually once the noise died down he moved off of the field and joined Merlin as they walked back to his new tent.

Entering, the slave helped the Prince out of the armor and set about to check on his wounds. Lifting the bandage, Merlin winced at the sight of the black and blue skin. His eyes darted towards the Prince's face which was averted, a smirk on his lips. Grabbing some new linens, he dabbed it in a solution and set his hand on the affected area. A flicker of gold later, he dabbed at the wound.

"What was that?"

Startled, Merlin gulped as he looked up.

"What was what, my lord?"

"What you did, what did you do? It tingled."

"Oh, that was just a new solution on your wounds? It tingled did it? That must be good then, means it's working."

Arthur grunted as he tried to roll his shoulders. Cocking his head, he repeated the motion twisting one way then the next.

"Whatever you did was amazing, I don't feel any pain."

"Well, keep this on until tomorrow and you should be fine."

Arthur replaced his shirt, still rolling his shoulders as he left the tent. Stacking the armor, Merlin double checked everything to be in position before he darted out after him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Excellent job, Prince Arthur, truly deserving of the whisperings of Court."

"You flatter me, King Severus. It was a close one in the second joust."

"But you came back and demolished your contender. How is he by the way?"

"Sir Owain? A cracked rib, he should be fine."

"Oh, would that I had a son such as you are.

"I am sure he would be a credit to you as well."

"Ah, you remind me well of your dear Mother."

"My Mother, you knew her?"

"Knew her? Yes, I knew her well."

This caused Arthur to pause, fork in hand, as he glanced over at his companion who was looking off into the distance. An impossibly far distance.

"What, what was she like?"

"Oh, she was a most vibrant flower in the court. So bright, soft, lovely, really lovely. She was kind to all she came in contact with, a rare thing for one born of nobility. I dare say none could say an unkind thing about her. I see her in you."

"I-I wish I had the opportunity to know her."

"Perhaps as you get to know yourself you will find her within."

Nodding slowly, Arthur cleared his throat as he grasped his goblet and raised it ever so slightly. Within seconds the soft whooshing of liquid being poured into it told him that Merlin was on top of his game that night. Attentive. When the weight of his goblet had no more he pulled it back and took a small sip, relishing as a slight burn awakened his throat. Around him the laughter and exuberance of knights celebrating the victory of their Prince swirled around Arthur. He could hear some discussing the joust, some the Ladies of Court, but what he didn't hear was the ever present voice of Morgana. Curious, he looked over and saw her chewing slowly, her eyes far away. Tapping his goblet ever so slightly on the edge of the table he caught her attention and raised it to her.

Her lips curled into what should have been a smile but it seemed wrong. _What's wrong with her? Is she disappointed that I won?_ He raised an eyebrow and she replied in kind. _That's the Morgana I know. I bet she was disappointed!_ His Father turned to him, making a comment about his performance and he focused on him. So focused that he didn't see her expression as it dropped, her hands tightening on a napkin in front of her, eyes narrowed.

She watched as King Severus ignored the conversing Father and Son, going so far as to turn from their side and beckon his servant forward. He exchanged terse words to which the servant nodded sharply. It took only a moment and then the servant was filtered back into the shadows awaiting a further call. She watched him out of the corner of her eye from that moment on. The visiting King and his servant. She watched as he seemed to not take part of any conversation had between Arthur and Uther. She watched when he would smile if the Prince would turn to him. She watched and she wondered.

While dinner was by no means a quiet affair, amidst knights and courtesans conversing and laughing, there was still tension in the air. That made two attempts on the Prince's life both of which were foiled by others. Morgana watched as Sir Leon glanced around the hall several times throughout the festivities, his shoulder muscles taunt, his eyes constantly shifting, his hand spasming over the hilt of his sword. Disturbances by members of the feast were subdued quickly and without fuss, escorted from the hall to their rooms to sleep off the alcohol consumed. When the last of the guests left, Merlin sighed, shifting from one foot to the other. Walking forward, he set the pitcher on the table and waited for the Prince to stand so that he could accompany him back to his chambers.

Arthur pushed away from the table, wobbling slightly as he tried to put one foot in front of the other. The slave hurried forward, his hand catching the Prince's elbow, steading him just in time to prevent him falling. Luckily Uther and Morgana had left just moments before Arthur had tried to leave the table; therefore, didn't witness his unsteady bearings. Slinging his arm over his shoulder, Merlin directed the Prince out the doors and through the corridors towards his chambers. With the feast over and most of its participants already sleeping off their drinks, the duo encountered very few along the way, to the slave's relief.

Turning to his side, Merlin nudge the door open and herded Arthur through kicking the door closed behind him. Nearly tripping over his own feet, the boy was able to drop him on the bed. Straightening with only a few cracks and pops of the back, he proceeded to grab the Prince's night clothes and wrestle him into them. Tossing aside the used clothing, he lifted his legs and tucked them under the turned down covers. Touching up the last of room, Merlin snuffed out the candles and left the Prince to his dreams. _I should still have some time._ Turning in the opposite direction, he made his way down into the castle, taking the path he had only traveled once before he had to backtrack a few times before he made it. Shivering, the slave glanced around flickered room. Two guards were sitting at a table with plates of food scattered about. Swallowing, Merlin approached, he kept his eyes pointed slightly downward in a show of submissiveness.

"I came to see the Ulbein Prisoner."

One looked the slave up and down before he got to his feet and motioned him back towards the cells. They traveled a short way down, but the cells changed dramatically; they had manacles attached to the stained walls. Acid churned in Merlin's stomach as he came to stop outside the cell. Light barely filtered in from the torches on the far wall dancing with the shadows in the cell.

"10 minutes."

The guard left him staring into the cell.

"Come to gloat have you? Are you happy now? You have killed another of your so-called friends."

"N-no, I'm not. Why did you try to have Prince Arthur killed? You know King Severus is fond of him; you had to know that he would be cross with you harmed him, even a little. So why? Is it me? Was this some sort of revenge? Because I am sorry about what happened to you! I am. I didn't want it. I never want any part of it!"

The boy in the chains scoffed as he leant forward, the light catching on one side of his face. Merlin flinched as he saw the illumination of the now bruised and battered face of the would-be assassin. Black, blue and purple surrounded one eye, as dark brown dried blood stained his temple down to his chin.

"If that were true then Freya wouldn't have had to die. THAT was your fault! You knew and you still didn't care. You killed her, you can't deny it! Everywhere you go, you leave a path of destruction in your wake. I was lucky to survive with only a scar as a reminder. Freya wasn't even that and she loved you. I don't understand why, but she loved you and YOU KILLED HER!"

Merlin flinched backwards, his back coming to hit the solid iron bars of another cell. He faught to keep control. Images flashed across eyes forcing hidden memories to the surface.

KKKckckckkk

Flipping around, Merlin's mouth dropped open, standing at the end was Gwen; around her feet were the dirty plates of the guards. _She heard! No._ It felt as though someone had reached into his body, grabbed his stomach and twisted it in tight knots. He tried to speak, but the words remained captive in his throat, stuck and unable to escape. Snapping out of it, she bent down and collected the plates before she spun on her heel and ran up the steps, leaving him standing there, alone.

Quiet chuckling brought his attention back to the captive servant, he looked directly at the slave; his blue eyes seemingly glowing in the faint light.

"Now she knows. She heard it, and was warned. Hahahahaha! If I have to die, at least I know that in some way justice will be served."

_No, not like this, I didn't want her to find out like this. But if I leave her, then she will keep her distance, she will be safe. Can I do that? Can I leave her like this? Can I-?_

The words echoed around the slave as he chased after Gwen, past the guards, up the stairs, down the hallway with flickering torches towards his only companion. He could tell he was catching up to her as her footfalls grew louder. Turning a corner, he saw her. He saw her turn around, fear in her countenance. More twisting in his gut as he put on a burst of speed. His hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She shrieked as she slowed down. Shaking off his hand, she backed up until her back came to rest safely against the wall. Her hands clasped the dishes to her chest like some sort of shield. He held up his hands as he took a step back.

"Gwen, please, I-I-"

"Is what he said true? Did you kill the woman who loved you?"

Merlin chewed on his bottom lip as he swallowed, his mind churning with memories long since buried. Shakily, he blew out air between trembling lips as he tried to answer her.

"And him, did you try to kill him too? _Did you_?!"

"I-I didn't mean to. I didn't want to. Aden spoke the truth, Freya loved me and she died. I killed her."

"Why? She _loved _you!"

"I know, and I her. I loved her so much, it still hurts."

"Then _why_?!"

The slave's shoulder drooped as if some massive weight had settled on them, his head bent forward and he backed up until he came to stand beside Gwen, his back to the wall. His knees trembled and he slid down the wall, coming to rest on the ground. Slowly he brought his arms to wrap around his bent knees, his face turned away from the serving girl. There was a long moment of silence between the two. Gwen glanced over at the boy, so small as he curled in on himself. She glanced down the corridor but there was no one else. Slowly, she lowered herself down to the ground, setting the plates aside as she did so.

_If he really did kill her as the servant had claimed, he seems to be sorry about it. _ Peering over at him, she carefully laid a hand on his arm, her body still tense.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

Gwen waited. Several long moments stretched before the boy's head slowly started to turn in her direction. When their eyes met, she gasped softly. His blue eyes were cloudy with pain. They searched her eyes; searching for something but she wasn't sure what. The only thing she knew was that something terrible had happened, something she wasn't sure she wanted to know anymore. She opened her mouth to retract her earlier plea.

"I was in the service of King Severus when I met her. She was a captive Druid of a friend of the Kings. She was so beautiful Gwen, so pure despite the rags they made her wear. Her eyes were kind, loving, but they hid something far worse. Fear. She was dreadfully afraid of something. A bounty hunter. He had captured her. He was trying to get the King to take her. I only knew her a short time, but there was some sort of a connection between us. I would sneak away at night and visit her. I couldn't help myself. He would keep her in a cage like some sort of livestock."

Merlin barely noticed when Gwen's hand tightened on his arm, her nails digging into his sleeve.

"I was going escape with her, something I knew was a death sentence, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be with her. I was selfish, so very selfish. I helped her escape and we tried to leave. We were nearly caught several times, but each time we managed to evade them. Then something happened. She changed, she changed from the girl I fell in love with into, well, I don't even know what. We had gotten caught and her punishment was to be cursed. She was just a Druid they had captured to sell to the highest bidder. Then she met me. She met me and because of _my_ actions they cursed her from that night forward. Every night she would turn into some sort of winged cat. Every night she would turn into a bloodthirsty beast and she had no control of it. It wasn't her fault! It was mine! _Mine_! I tried to help her and she was cursed _because of ME!_ "

Tears streamed unrestrained down Gwen's face, her other free hand was pressed to her lips. _Hasn't he suffered enough? Why? Why must life be so cruel? _

"That wasn't enough for them, they kept her there, in the cage at the castle. Sometimes, I wonder if it was a sort of punishment for me. Had I not gotten involved she would-she would still be alive. Captive but alive."

"I think that she would have rather spent those few moments with you, alive and in love, than the rest of her life alone."

Merlin glanced over at her; his eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Do you think so?"

His voice was so broken that she had to bite her own lip to keep the sobs back.

"I do."

"Even though it cost her her life, in the end?"

Lines of pain were etched deeply around his eyes and mouth, he seemed to age before her, age in a way that she would wish on no man.

"What happened?" She asked softly, hesitantly. _I don't think he has ever told anybody about this before. He hasn't grieved for her since it happened._

"She escaped. She escaped and she came for me. She had her moment of freedom, where she would never have to be caged again and she threw it away to enter a different cage. Mine. She shouldn't have, I should have refused to go, I should have made sure she left, but I didn't because I was selfish-so selfish. At the time I was so happy that she had escaped and come for me that I wasn't thinking straight. We ran. It was dusk but not late enough for her to Change just yet. We had made it out of the castle and into the surrounding forest. We had gone fairly deep into the trees when she transformed. She was a large and fierce looking creature but to me, she was still so beautiful.

She had black hair as a girl, which she kept when she transformed; her black fur glistened under the dying sun. She was a new creature but her eyes never changed. They were still Freya's eyes. Still full of hope and kindness. She knew me, and she didn't hurt me. The bounty hunter and his men were catching up to us, along with some of the King's men. We ran, oh, we _ran_, but no matter how fast we moved they were catching up. Had she left me behind she could have made it but she slowed down for me. She faced her death for me...

They had caught up to us with their spears, arrows and swords. In that fateful moment I tripped and they were upon me in a second. Their arrows landed around me, just barely scratching me. I knew they wanted me alive. Freya charged at them, she fought them, killing some of the knights. But then she got hit... I had already been taken, they held me down, forced me to watch as they slew her in front of me. I had to watch as their swords pierced her warm body. Something broke in that instant. I found the power to break free and I ran to her. I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she moaned in pain, as her life bled out from her and onto me. I had her blood on my hands. I was holding her when she was finally freed for the last time." The young slaves head dropped to his knees. The weight of years of guilt pressing down on his heart.

_I used what strength I had left to transport her to the place she told me about, a place that was within Camelot's border. A peaceful Lake surrounded by purple tinged mountains, where the wind softly blew at the blades of grass that circled the water, making them dance... I sent her off with the last of what I had. I saw her body burn in the middle of the lake, the orange and red flames waltzing to the sky. She was in her human form when I burned her. That's how I wanted to remember her. Beautiful, human and free. _ He didn't say it out loud as that would have been a death sentence alone, but he remembered that moment. _And I won't make that same mistake twice. I only have a full day left before I too will be the one to leave. This time I won't take anyone else with me._

"And I swore to myself that it wouldn't happen again," Merlin stated, he shook off her hand and stood. Pausing, he forced himself not to look at her as he left. He walked down the corridor without looking back, without saying goodbye, without her.

Gwen sat there stunned; her hands limp on the ground where they had fallen. _Oh. _Her mind spun with the words the boy had so brokenly spoken. The hurt, shame and guilt screamed from everything he was; from the way he held himself, from the look in his eyes, from the words that escaped. _Loneliness. That is who he is. He is lonely and unwilling to trust anyone with the burden of knowing him. He doesn't want anyone to get to know him for fear he would lose them like he did Freya. How does he do it? How does he even wake up each morning? Why would he? There's something else, something else that gives him a reason to live. If it were me, I would just stay in bed. Stay in bed and dream of a world much different from the one I had to live in. _

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Merlin leaned a hand against the wall, his breathing coming in short gasps, blinking heavily; he tried to focus on the path ahead of him. _I need to sleep. I'm so tired. So, so tired. _The lights blurred in his vision as he stumbled forward. Shaking his head, he tried to open his eyes wider. _Heavy, so so heavy. It's just through there. Then, there are the stairs. Oh, why stairs? Ooh. Maybe, maybe these steps won't be so bad. The steps can be a makeshift pillow, albeit and uncomfortable pillow. Can I even call it a pillow if it isn't even soft; well, it does still prop up the head so-oh, I am loosing it now. Just one foot in front of the other. Left, right, left, right, left..._

It took him longer than normal to make it even halfway up the stairs before he had to pause, gather his bearings, catch his breath. He stumbled, bracing his hand against the wall he used it to try and pull himself up. _This isn't right, I may be tired but this is unnatural. There is sorcery at work, but who? _Weaving, he dug his nails into the wall, stopping himself from weaving backwards. He raised his leg, planting it firmly on the step ahead of him, using it to push himself up another few steps. He repeated the arduous movement several times until he reached the top. The solid door seemed massive to him, impossibly big and heavy and dominating. Wearily he leaned against it, taking one last moment to draw on the last of his strength. Palms flat against the door, he pushed, and he pushed; he pushed with everything he had left. The door moved, ever so slightly at first, but with the first give it opened easier from there. The slave nearly fell into the room.

"Merlin!"

As he fell to his hands and knees, he could hear the steps of Gaius coming towards him. He felt his hands on his shoulders.

"What is it, what's wrong?"

"Tired. Just so tired."

"Let's get you to bed then."

Lending him his own meager strength, Gaius helped the boy to his feet; wrapping the boy's arm over his shoulder even though his weight nearly pulled the old man down. They toddled up the few stairs and into his temporary room, with Gaius leading him to his bed. Once there, the slave sank gratefully down onto the thin mattress, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. The old physician took the time to remove his boots and socks before tucking him into the bed, much like Merlin had done for Arthur earlier that evening. With his eyes closed but his mind still trying to follow, he felt as Gaius brushed the hair on his forehead back affectionately.

"Soon, my boy, soon. It is almost time."

_What will be soon? Is he part of it? No, not Gaius. Why does he touch me with such familiarity? Who is he? I need to ask him. I'll-I'll ask him in...n...the...mor..n..in...g_

The slave's world dissolved into a sweet darkness, one filled with memories of a time since passed, of a love since gone. A time he wanted to hold onto with all his might.

In the darkness of night Merlin smiled. He smiled at the girl across from him, the girl who he gave everything to. He watched as her eyes widened when he held out his hand a small flame of hope in it. The flame was warm, it flickered orange and red. It illuminated the girl's face, reflected the color in her eyes, he smiled at what he saw. He saw beauty in its purist form. He smiled when she giggled, her hands clasped in amazement as with his other hand he brought it to his lips and whispered a few words.

She watched as his hand opened and a tiny rose sat nestled there, her mouth opened softly as she exclaimed in amazement. Her eyes lifted to his and she saw him frown, chagrinned.

"What? What is it?"

"That was _supposed _to be a strawberry. For you."

"A strawberry? You remembered. Thank you."

"But it's not a strawberry."

"Well, it IS as red as one, and smells as sweet. Merlin, _thank you._"

Now it was Merlin's turn to resemble a strawberry. He ducked his head, blush staining his cheeks. When he was finally able to look her in the eye, he tilted his head towards her and froze.

"Freya? FREYA?!"

Gone was the girl before him. Gone was his good dream, his good memory and in its place was his nightmare.

"Hello?"

"Hel-lo, He-llo, Hell-ooooooooo"

His words echoed endlessly around him, so much so that he had to clamp his hands over his ears. He crashed to his knees as the echoes grew louder. They crescendoed into a roar, an ear piercing roar. _Stop! Please stop!_ As if heeding his words they were abruptly silenced. Merlin screwed his eyes shut, as he fought to gain control of this thoughts. _I don't understand. Where am I? Why is it so dark? _His fingers moved slightly and he opened one eye. _It's still dark. _His small flame had gone out when Freya had left. Lifting his fingers over both his ears, he cocked his head in wonder. _It stopped. The echoes, they stopped._

With a slight twirl of his fingers, light entered the area once more. Looking around he found some sort of rock outcropping a few feet away. _That wasn't here before. _Approaching cautiously, he let the light filter forward illuminating the rock. The rock he found as he ran a hand over the surface was fairly smooth and cut like a diamond would. It jutted out of the ground like stakes but much wider. _It's a large crystal. _At his touch it started glow, its light overtaking his small fire easily. He fizzled his flame out and gaze into the crystal.

_A small dark haired child was running through a field of flowers..."No, leave him alone! "...A young woman with dark hair, and kind eyes gazed up at him, a smile on her lips...A whip descended, whistling through the air, cracking against the exposed skinny back..."You-are-mine. Never forget that."..._

The slave pushed himself back, flinching violently away from the moving images. His legs collapsed as he trembled. _That's...that's my past, how can it be?_

To his left another light shone through the darkness, he turned and saw it was another outcropping of rock. Unbidden, his legs and feet carried him towards the glow. _I shouldn't...I shouldn't look into it. I don't want to see my past. I don't want to live it again!_ There was a flash in the crystal, something dark, a dark haired girl. _Freya?_ His eyes sought out the image, he watched as the dark haired girl turned around, he saw the Lady Morgana with tears in her eyes.

Merlin gripped the edge of the crystal, leaning in as if he could see better if he did so. _What is it? Why is she crying? What happened? Is it Arthur?_ He saw flashes of color behind her, rich colors, colors only royal would wear. She was running, running in a crowd, pushing her way through. _Desperate. She's desperate. _It shifted and he saw others. He saw Gwen, and she was crying, Gaius too. _Why? Why are they all crying? _He saw a woman with brown hair that was mostly covered by a faded green head scarf, she as dressed simply. He saw her blue eyes as they spilled over with tears, tears that fell unrestrained. She had one hand outstretched, she was gripping something brown. Her hand was so tightly griped that it made her knuckles white with tension, it moved to show his own face, eyes closed and tears trails dried on his dirty face. _Whatever she has, she doesn't want to let go. _

The image started to shift, allowing more of the brown to show. Lights exploded all around him as more and more crystals flared to life; each of them with images of their own flashing on them. His eyes went to the other crystals, curiosity getting them better of him. When he looked back the image of the woman had shifted to something else.

He moved to another crystal; this one had images of himself as he was now, looking into the crystals. He looked away and back at it, _it's a strange thing to be able to see oneself doing something as they are doing it. _He quickly turned to another, not liking the idea of seeing himself. Crystal after crystal he saw painful images, the same people screaming, crying, fighting. A flicker of red and brown, his own form dodged amongst the fighting. He saw pain. He staggered away, he scrubbing at his face. _Is this all that the future has in store? Is this what life holds? Pain? Is there not anything more for me? _

His eyes sought for something else, anything else to take his mind away from all the pain. The crystals flickered, waving from sight, until they were snuffed out. Standing several feet away was a lone crystal. The only beacon of light left in the strange cave. Tears blurred in his vision without falling, without relief. He sniffled. Steeling himself, he slowly approached the last crystal, fear gripping his heart. As he came to a stop, he looked down, the image shimmered into view and he gasped.

He saw Arthur, he was smiling at something to his left, and the image shifted to allow him to see Gwen; she was dressed in her simple lavender dress but there was something different about her. She was looking in Arthur's direction, her brown eyes warm as she gazed up at him. _They look so happy. _Again the image shifted over and he glimpsed the Lady Morgana, her eyes were bright with just a hint of glistening, and she grinned from out of the crystal, wide and unrestrained, she was patting the hand of an older woman. _That's the woman from earlier, the one wearing the worn sage-green head scarf. Who is she? Morgana's mother? No. I heard she had died. So...who? _

The woman's other hand was clasped with the wizened hand of Gaius'. His normally lined face is lifted with a soft smile, his eyes glistened without restraint, and Merlin gasped at the difference it made. The slave shifted his body, first to the left then to the right, trying to see more but that was the crystal showed. _They look so happy, so, so happy. But where am I? I'm not there. _He raised one hand to trace the image of their faces, memorizing them in his mind's eye.

Whoooooooossshhhhhhhhh

The light snuffed out while he was still trying to drink in the image of everyone he knew in Camelot with smiles on their faces. The slave shivered at the darkness. There was something so cold without the light, something overbearing. One hand lifted to his chest, he felt as if something were pressing in on his lungs. He struggled to breathe. He felt as though he was drowning somehow, drowning without water. He gasped, trying to draw in large gulping breathes of air but failing. Black spots were pulsating in his vision. His legs collapsed beneath him once more.

Something moved in the darkness, something came towards him, slithering along the ground. Merlin tried to focus on it but the lack of air was affecting him too much. He could feel wind its way over his foot and pulled. He crashed to the ground, more things winding around limbs rendering him unable to move. He blinked slowly. A sickly green seemed to pulsate around him, coming from the strange vine-like creatures. Soon he was only able to lift his head, and not very high.

_What is this? Letmego! _He struggled weakly, but he had little strength. He was being smothered by a thick darkness at the same time strangled by glowing green vines. _No! I was going to be happy! It showed me I could be happy! Please! Let me go! Let. Me. Go! LETMEGO! _His magic roared to life, gold exploding outwards disintegrating any vines restraining him. He cried out in pain, _my magic, it hurts. Why does it hurt?!_ He rolled away from the vines, coughing, gasping, struggling to breathe. With his magic in full force it created a sort of bubble between him and the darkness allowing him to breathe. He gulped in great lungfuls of air, his chest heaving with the effort. His eyes finally cleared and he felt sick at the sight. All around him, except in a circle where his magic had attacked, were wiggling green fingers of some sort of half vegetation half energy.

He spun around, everywhere he looked he could see the writhing vines, and they wanted him. They probed the area where their brothers had died. He turned around just as he saw a vine shoot out from the ground, he didn't have time to process it. All he could see was the vine and it was coming. Then suddenly, it was there and there was pain. Pain struck him in the heart like a javelin. He screamed and screamed as he felt his magic react. It writhed within him, it fought to get free, but it was being suppressed. He couldn't handle it anymore and his body gave out without him, he collapsed against the vine, which held him in place even as he slumped limp within its grasp.

Through slitted eyes he could see gold leeching out from him, dripping down his chest onto the ground beneath him, but even more he could see it running down along the vine as if being drawn there. _Is that my lifeblood? Not red, but gold? And it's leaving...so does that mean I am dying? Dying in my sleep? Is that even possible? So, in the end I couldn't even attain a small portion of happiness. It was my destiny to die. Alone. Alone and in pain. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What the dragon said, about its fall if I should fall. It's my fault. My...fau...l..t...Sor'y._

A/N: Whew, again, this has gotten away from me. I was trying to get to another significant event but it looks like I'll have to stop it here. How about a shout out for the longest chapter yet. 8000 words! Wooooo!

Thank you everyone, your words really do encourage me and helped me to bust this out. Special thanks to DairyMilk123 for helping me read through it.

Also, special shout out to: Death Knight of Camelot for being my first to Fav my story! Love you!

As well as: PagieThePanda for my first review ever for the story.

And to: 96 for being my 100th story fav.

Weeee!

There's so many of you I'd like to shout out to but I know I can't get you all, so just a few more: Nameless Secret Keeper (for being ever so loyal every chapter! Cool Sauce!)' and fairygoatmother (you were such a big help, my early chapters were only readable because of you).

And to everyone of you readers both reviewers and silent revelers! Love you!


	18. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Merlin glanced down at the vine protruding from his chest, his face twisting into a grimace as he slowly brought his arms up to weakly grasp it just below his heart. He gripped the weed with all of his meager strength,_ What is this? Ughh...I feel strange...wrong. _

His body started rocking back and forth with gentle motions. Confused, the slave looked around trying to figure out what was causing it. The vine was stuck fast but his body was still moving._ Wha-?_

"Merlin...Merlin...Merlin, you'll be late if you don't get up."

_Gaius! _

"Gai-" The slave choked off as his body gave another pulse of pain. He groaned as he was overwhelmed, the sensation so intense his hands gave way and he was limp in the grasp of the vine. _It hurts...Ugh..h'rts. _He closed his eyes against the pain, hoping that somehow the ache would recede if he kept them closed.

"Merlin, _come on, _the Prince will be waiting."

Blearily Merlin forced his eyelids back, he saw a blurry face hovering over him. Squinting he tried to focus, the blob moved out of his line of sight and he was left with staring at the wood beams of his ceiling. _Ceiling-? What? I'm not dead? I'mnotdead!_

Pain quivered throughout his body. It throbbed from the tip of his toes up to his stiff neck. He groaned as he turned his head, trying to see the old physician who had moved back towards the door but the pain tore through the boy like a fire.

"Merlin? Are you okay? What's wrong? Merlin!"

Slowly and with great effort, the slave lifted one trembling hand to his chest. He searched for the vine he had been impaled on. His fingers caressed the soft fabric covering his chest, he pulled his hand back, lifting it to his face but he saw the fingers were spotless. There was no golden life blood, no green vines, nothing; his fingers were as they always were, long and thin. _A dream? It was only a dre-nightmare. _Shifting, the boy used his hand to pull back at the blankets and sheet, it was a slow process. _Ugh, still so tired. Is it already morning? Maybe just a few more minutes?_

"Merlin?"

"Oh, sorry Gaius... I am just tired...why time is it?"

"Early morning, enough so that you can still attend to Arthur in time, if you hurry."

"Oh. Ok. I just...need...a moment." Sighing, Merlin dragged his feet over the edge of the bed, letting them dangle there for just a moment. Lowering them to the floor, he was rewarded with a chill zipping up his toes, he shivered. Pushing himself up, he wobbled momentarily with Gaius watching him all the while. _Ok, out of bed. check. Um, next...next...clothes! i should change. Yeah. Clothes. _Letting his eyes do most of the work, he spotted a sleeve sticking out of one of the drawers, _Oh, yeah, there they are. _Shuffling forward, he pulled open the drawer and retrieved the clean shirt and breeches, before fumbling with his nightshirt. The shirt pulled over his face hid his grimace at the motion, he pulled but he was unable to get it completely over his shoulders.

Wiggling unsuccessfully, he tried to will his achingly tired arms to do as commanded. He was startled when the shirt came off with a tug. Blinking, he found himself starting into the concerned face of Gaius. Blushing at his ineptness, Merlin smiled half-heartedly. Gaius' brow furrowed, "Merlin, what's wrong? I am a physician I can help you if you let me."

"Oh, um, nothing. Just really tired like I said. I'm okay, really."

He got a raised eyebrow in response. Avoiding the older man's probing eyes, the slave picked up the new shirt and slipped it over his head and with a little tug of war it settled on his shoulders. Wavering slightly, the boy rested a hand against the cupboard for a slight pause. Shaking his head, he removed his breeches, regardless of the physician still in the room, and replaced them with the fresh pair. Securing the slightly too large waist with the belt, he patted his neck, double checking that his black neckerchief was still in place before he turned towards the door and stopped. Standing there with the door open, was Gaius and he watched the slave. He watched with him sad eyes, and yet there was something else there, a slight sparkle. _You're not part of this, are you Gaius? He hasn't given me a reason to doubt him but he's hiding something. I know he is. Why? _

"Are you okay, Gaius?"

"I will be. Soon."

With a wave of his hand, the physician hustled the boy downstairs and to the table which had been set with breakfast. Merlin looked at the older man in surprise, "You didn't have to-"

"I wanted to, although now it looks like you'll have to take it to go."

Nodding, Merlin grabbed the chuck of bread and cheese as well as a handful of berries. _Oh, these look good. I've never had berries before. I wonder what they will taste like? Sour? Sweet? Hard? Soft, yes definitely soft. Kinda squishy, ooops. _He had closed his fist a little too tightly and had squished a berry, it leaked juice down his hand and he was quick to lick it up. As his tongue came in contact with the juice his face pulled into a pleasant smile. _Tart. Sweet with just a hint of sour. I like it. Wow. This is good!_

He beamed over at Gaius, "Thank you! These are delicious."_ I don't understand, if he is planning something then why is he being kind to me? What did he mean by soon? Is he referring to the completion of the tournament? Is something going to happen then? _

The old man smiled softly back and him and motioned him to the door, "Best hurry off."

The slave waved his hand, which carried the bread and cheese, as he dashed out the door. He alternated between taking a bite of the bread and the cheese, deciding to save the berries for last, as a treat. He chewed slowly, the normally small effort seemed to take a lot more of him than it did yesterday. He sighed. _It's going to be hard, returning to Ulbein. I am going to miss Gaius, even if he is part of it, Gwen, Sam, even Arthur the Prat. They will be better off without me, all I can seem to do is cause pain to others; perhaps that is my lot in life, to be alone. That is MY curse, just like how Freya was. Both cursed to be alone. _He rubbed at his chest absentmindedly, _It still burns. Wake up, come on, stay awake. One more day. Just...one more day and it will all be over. _

He closed his eyes as he savored a particularly sweet red berry, opening them again he passed several other servants on their way to their chores. He had made a short trip to the kitchens to retrieve the Prince's breakfast, as he left he grunted at the task of moving that solid door. Approaching the Prince's chambers he paused, _Something's wrong. What is it? _He gasped. _I didn't go see the Master this morning. _Gulping, he stopped outside the Prince's door, he knocked once before shouldering the door open. He dug his heels into the stone and leaned against it, the wood unyielding to his exertions. It took several moments, but he was finally able to get it open enough that he could squeeze through without dropping his breakfast.

On the other side, he repeated the motion, leaning into the door until it clicked shut. His chest heaved, as he struggled to catch his breath. Behind him he could hear the Prince chuckling at his expense.

"I must have gotten lax on you, Merlin, if you can't even open a door without breaking a sweat."

The Slave in question, dragged his feet over to the table, depositing the plate and jug onto the table with a light chink. Pausing, he took the opportunity to drag the sleeve of his shirt over his forehead and saw that he had indeed broken a sweat at the easy task. _I don't remember it taking that much effort to open and close doors. _He bustled around the chamber, tidying the Prince's room while he ate. He opened the windows to let in some fresh air, pulled down the dirty laundry and set it in a basket left for that purpose.

Glancing around, he spotted the armor the Prince was to use on the last part of the tournament, the one on one combat between the remaining knights. Picking up a piece, he also grabbed a rag and vigorously rubbed at any offending spots until he had it gleaming. Checking his reflection in it, he nodded before he moved on to another piece, systematically. By the time the Prince had finished his meal, the slave had finished with the armor and had moved on to the sword. Picking it up, he looked down the blade, taking just a second to admire the craftsmanship, at least what little he knew about them, before he touched it up.

"Ah, Merlin, this last one we will be using real blades. So I will need my other sword as well as shield."

"_Real _blades? Sharpened blades, Sire?"

"Real blades, of course they're sharpened. I am meant to be proving myself to the people and our King, I can't do that with play fighting."

"-but what about the other one in the melee, you used dull blades there."

"Well, that was different, it was chaos on the field with so many at once. This will be a honorable fight between two knights."

"Yes, of course, my lord."

"In fact, I hope to impress your King with this competition. I have taken quite a liking to him and this will be his last chance to see what Camelot has in their champion. Me."

Merlin didn't respond.

"It was strange, but last night I found that the King, your King, knew my Mother. I knew he was friends with my Father but I didn't realize that he also knew my Mother. He told me about her at the feast. I hope that he can tell me more after this is over; I have many questions for him. According to him, my Mother was a very kind woman." The young prince smiled fondly at an imagined memory. "There are just some things you can't learn from a painting and my Father never mentions her. Too painful, I expect. I bet she was a lovely woman, my Mother. What about you?"

"I'm sorry, Sire, but I didn't know your Mother."

"Obviously not, you idiot. I meant what about your Mother? Do you remember her? You at least got to know her more-so than I did mine. What was she like?" The Prince looked over at him, his eyes eager for information as he sat on the edge of his seat, leaning forward.

_What was she like?_ _How am I supposed to know? I don't really remember anything. I have nothing to tell. Even worse, I did have time with her and I can't remember it. It has to be there somewhere but I can't remember her. Why? Why did he have to bring it up? She was the first one I lost. _ His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed with difficulty.

"Come on, Merlin, what was she like?"

_What does he want from me? Why does he keep doing this? It's my fault. I shouldn't have opened my mouth when we first met. I tried to change my fate, I tried to gain the one thing I wanted more than anything: someone one to call my friend. But it was all for naught. We aren't friends, we CAN'T be friends. I can't do this. I can't keep doing this tug of war. This we're friends, we're not friends; then we're friends again. I can't take this. It's the same with Gwen. I can't pretend like I am able to be their friend. Who am I trying to kid? Why? Why did it have to happen like this: I was fine before this, I was fine without friends. Iwasfine. Iamfine. Iwillbefine. He's fine. Better off with me, they all are. I have to stop this, I have to put an end to this, for all of our sakes. I only have a day left. I have no choice. I will end it here. _

Merlin looked down at his hands, the sleeves of his shirt covered the metal bands that enclosed his arms, reminding him of his status, of his fate. That which he hasn't and can't escape. He felt disgust and shame. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off of his wrists, sacrificing himself to the pain if need be. He wanted them off; he wanted to be free. The surge only lasted a moment before it ebbed and in its wake he felt only despair and uselessness. _No matter what fate the Dragon has said is mine, the only thing I can see is that of life as a slave. Forever alone. I can't drag anyone else down with me. This is the end Arthur Pendragon, we can never be Prince Arthur and Merlin the slave, there will only be Prince Arthur, as I will fade into the background, into memory and be forgotten as is my place._

"Merlin? What is it? Is something wrong?"

_There it is again, the concern. _Balling his hands into fists, he finally looked up, resolve in his eyes. _Why is he making this harder for me_? _I can't do this, I only had one more day, couldn't he have just waited one more day? I can't be his friend doesn't he understand that? I need him to understand it so that I may go on, that I might survive my fate. I will force him to understand and to leave me alone._

Arthur leaned back in his seat, _Something happened, something's changed. _He saw the boy ball his fist, his shoulders hunch and his eyes harden. Every line in the boy's body was taunt like the string of a bow, ready to snap at any moment. _Not snap, he's fraying, the string is being pulled so tightly that the ends are starting to fray, piece by piece, he's being pulled too much._

"You are wrong, Sire, I DON'T remember her. How could I? I was barely through my six's harvest when I was taken from her. I was so young. I don't remember what she looks like. I don't remember what she felt like. What she smelt like. If she had brown hair or black? If she sang to me. If she even loved me! I don't remember ANYTHING! You, you never knew your Mother, never had the chance and that's all you have had. What about me? I had my Mother for six short years and I _don't remember a single one of them!_ What does that say about ME?! I had a Mother, who apparently I didn't cherish enough because I can't remember anything about her! So don't you ask me about my Mother. Don't ask me if she was kind, if she was beautiful, if she held me on nights when I was too afraid to sleep on my own because I DON'T KNOW!"

The slave's chest was heaving by the end of his rant, his eyes burned with unshed tears as his heart throbbed painfully. He raised a hand to it, and tried to relieve the pain.

"Merlin, I'm sorry-I didn't know."

"No, you didn't know. You couldn't know. Why? Because you are the Prince of Camelot and I am just a slave, a low born, the lowest of them all. So, of course you didn't know."

Prince Arthur started in surprise as the boy continued spewing forth vicious words at him. Realizing the sort of pain the boy must be feeling, he tried to take a step forward with his hand outstretched, but for each step he took forward, the slave matched it by taking a step backwards. Arthur stopped, his mouth working to form some sort of reassurance, something. _I knew from the beginning that I lost my Mother but to know that he had time with her that he couldn't remember must be tearing him apart. And I brought it up, without thinking that it might be a painful subject for him. Idiot. You are such an insufferable idiot. _

"Merlin-"

"Don't. Just don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't call me that."

"What, Merlin?"

"Stop it! That's where it all started. That's what got us into this mess to begin with."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. Like I said. Prince. You don't understand the power you have in knowing one's name. To you, it means nothing, but to me, it means everything. I told you. I told you that no one had spoken my name for many, many years. Maybe not as many as I first said..." Images of Freya swam around his mind. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone my name." The slave laugh, sardonically, almost hysterically.

"But you, I couldn't refuse you. You. The Prince of Camelot. The first person to actually ask me my name, so I couldn't refuse you. It had been so long since someone had uttered my given name, the only thing I have of my Mother's. But that's when I started to delude myself. Trick myself into thinking that I could be a normal person. I should have known better. I shopuld have, but I ignored it because I was desperate-_So_ desperate to be able to reach out to someone. And now look where it has lead me to. No more. Do you hear me, Arthur? No. More. I can't do this." His voice was trembling by that point, the raw emotion taking hold. He dug his nails into the palm of his clenched hand. He didn't feel the sting as it broke the surface.

Arthur watched him, _this is it._

"Merlin-"

The slave flinched at the use of his name, so Arthur stopped himself.

"Well, what AM I supposed to call you?"

"Don't call me anything, don't acknowledge me, dont pretend I exsist. Just ignore me, leave me. I only have one day left, one day till I am gone again." _I couldn't bear it if you didn't. _Blinking rapidly, the slave set about to grabbing the basket with the clothing, he carried it to the door. Drawing breath, he exited, leaving the Prince staring at his back, his mouth slightly open. When the boy closed it behind him, he leaned against it, steeling himself as his arms started to shake at the strain of the laundry. _They will all be happier once I am gone, the least I can do for them is to make sure that they stay that way. After everything I have already put them through, I can do this much. _

He forced himself away from the door, and continued down the hall to deposit the laundry before his other tasks. He forced himself to avoid all eye contact, especially as he passed the young squire in the stables. He didn't stop to converse, he didn't look at him, he didn't acknowledge his smile or nod, he didn't take notice of the new strip of cloth hanging from around the squire's throat that was nearly identical to his own but in a cheerful red. He merely passed by him as if he didn't see him, as if he didn't know him; therefore, he didn't see the way they boy's face fell, the crumple of his lips. The slave didn't but the Prince who had started to follow him did and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Merlin checked the position of the sun, it has not yet reached it's apex. _I still have enough time. I must hurry though. _Images flashed before his eyes, he saw Freya's smiling face, her warm brown eyes, full pink lips. He held onto the image. Deep brown eyes reflecting the fire with just the smallest flecks of gold. Bright white fangs snarled. Merlin jerked backwards, bumping into a wall. _Ignore it. Focus. Focus on your task. The dragon. He'll know what to do. _

Hastening his steps, Merlin was able to reach the gate to the Dragon within a short span of time. Skipping several steps at a time, he reach the bottom and found the dragon perched on the rock outcropping, waiting for him. Even with the natural light bouncing off the caves walls' the slave was unable to see clearly. His eyes glowed like a fire, echoing several small flames that flickered into existence in a half circle above him. The great dragon's lips pulled back into a smile as he watched the young warlock use my innate gifts.

"I need your help, I don't know what to do." Mindful of the edge, the boy lowered himself to his favorite spot using his magic to secure him there.

"What is it that you seek, young Warlock?"

"Your wisdom. I leave tomorrow, what I am to do? When I leave, Arthur will be unprotected. You said it was my destiny to protect him but it can't be, if it were then surely I would be allowed to stay."

"You must not leave, you are to be by his side, remain by his side, always."

"I foiled the plot against the Prince, his two assassins are dead and the leader behind the plot in the dungeons. What more am I meant to do? What more can I do? There's nothing left for me here."

"So sure are you that you have saved Prince Arthur? There are many plots surrounding the Once and Future King, remember that. Your time is not yet up. You MUST remain vigilant, or Albion falls with you."

"I know that! You told me! But I don't know what else I can do! I am just a slave."

"Back to that are we, warlock? So quick are you to dismiss my words. I, who have lived for a thousand years, and yet you think yourself more knowledgable? More wise?"

"No, not more wise. I am just not sure I am the one you seek, the one for whom destiny speaks of. I don't see it. I don't see that ability within myself. It..it just can't be; why me? Surely there are more worthy, more deserving of this great destiny."

"There is not. You must search within yourself, Merlin. Search yourself before you loose yourself to your doubts. For that is amongst the greatest of foes. That of ourselves."

The great dragon parted from the warlock with those words, lifting his large body to the sky overhead, its chain trailing behind him, swaying softly.

_I wish I had his assurances. All I have are his words, and they weren't very helpful. Why can't he just tell me what to do? I don't understand his words. I don't...want this false hope. _It was several long moments before he summoned the energy to move from his position. Dragging his limbs up, he staggered to the stairs, lifting one agonized foot above the other. As he passed from the beneath the opening, he paused. Looking back over his shoulder he wondered, _Will this be the last time I meet with the great dragon?_

His musing distracted him so much that he did not hear the heavy exhale of air, the dragon's sigh. Had he heard, he might have begged more answers to his questions, but as it was he didn't hear and therefore, he didn't ask. He continued on his way back to Arthur, back to his accursed destiny. He trudged up the steps, to the landing, only looking back at the darkened stairs. _I hope we do meet again._

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Merlin walked amongst the servants, most of whom were dressed in Camelot red, trying not to listen as they laughed with one another; as they enjoyed one another's company. He avoided their eyes, which wasn't difficult as most of them were lost in their conversations about the last event, the most important one, the one on one sword fighting.

"Prince Arthur will of course-"

"-I heard Knight Valiant has entered-"

"-What about Sir Leon-?"

"Ooh, my bet is on him, although you know that sometimes they throw the match for-"

"-throw the match?"

"Let themselves be beaten. I heard that that's an unspoken rule amongst Crowned Princes-"

"Really? Do you think Prince Arthur could win if they don't?"

"I don't know but-"

"Prince Arthur is the best of the knights. He will win, for sure!"

"Sure Sam, we all know where your loyalties lie, but do you really think he can?"

"Yes."

The slave quickened his steps when he heard the familiar voice of the young squire, _Please don't let him see me. I don't know that I could bear it. _Ducking behind a tent, he waited until their voices drifted away before he continued through the mass of stalls to the armory. Entering the room, his eyes shifted around, _It's not here. Oh. _Resisting the urge to slap himself on his forehead, he backed out and hurried into the town towards the weaponsmaster's place, he dodged around the milling peasant who were giggling as they too discussed the tournament.

He passed by several groups of women, most of whom were adorned especially for the tournament, but something caused him to stop. Slowing, his brow furrowed as he tried to pin point what it was that startled him. A faint scent on the air encouraged him to breathe deeper. _Like freshly cut grass, with some sort of flower...? _Looking around at the mass of people he couldn't finger just where it had come from. _Familiar, I know that scent..._ He eyes roamed over the women who hair was fastened on their head, some with brightly colored head scarfs. He paused when he saw a light green scarf, _Is that...?_

"Watch it, slave."

His concentration was broken as a man shouldered his way past him, turning back around he tried to find the woman again but she was gone from his sight. Sighing in frustration, he turned back and narrowly avoided being squished between two rather large ladies. Sucking in his breath, he turned sideways to take up the least amount of space, barely making it through. He stumbled afterwards, bumping into another man in the process who shoved him away harshly. The push sent him crashing through a rickety pinewood door. It gave out beneath him with a thud which sent flying up around him. The boy coughed, he waved his hand to clear the air. A faint flash of viridian illuminated the room briefly before it dissipated, returning to it's normal lighting.

"Arghhhh!"

Rolling to his feet, the slave looked around the room. Strips of cloth created a make shift divider for the room, a body crashed to the ground, his hand coming to rest under the cloth. Choking back, Merlin backed away as he heard sounds coming from the same direction as the body, voices of at least two persons. _Someone's still there! Hide. Hide. Hide! Where? I-I-run. RUN! _As his mind make the connection, he turned to flee commanded when he saw the divider shift and a man come through and another shadow lagging behind; he had a close shave head and chin, his brown eyes were hard. In his hand he carried a shield with 3 interlocking snakes, _He's a knight!_ Turning tail, Merlin dashed from the room and out into the street, his eyes rapidly searching for the best place to hide. Sprinting down the road, he dashed behind a building and waited. _Did he see me? He had to have seen me, right? Does he know who I am? Does he know about Prince Arthur? What was he doing in there? Why did he kill that man? Who was that other person in the back? Did they see me?_

_I have to tell Prince Arthur, but what good would that do? The word of a slave holds no weight in court. I'd be laughed at, or worse killed. I can't just let him go, he could be after the Prince! WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo? I could tell Gwaine...Oh...he was banished. _His knees trembled at that thought. He slid down the side of the wall, his legs no longer able to support him. _No one. I don't have anyone I can tell. There's...no, I can't rely on anyone, if I do it will only bring sadness to their lives. A harbinger of grief, despair, sadness. That's all I am. I bring grief to all who I come in contact with. If I left, would the threats stop against the Prince? Surely, he must have had attempts on his life before me? Right? I didn't bring this upon him, right? Is it my fault? Those bandits, they came after they attacked Gaius and me. The assassin with the short arrows, I led him straight to Arthur's tent. This knight, is there someway I am binging this about? Is it my fault? Is it their blood I have on my hands? _

The slave brought his hands up, angling them in the light. He turned them one way then the other, watching as the light reflected off his pale skin. He stared at his hands, noticing every crack, line and blemish, and if he stared hard enough without blinking he could see a faint sheen of red, as if it were surfacing from within his body clawing it's way to the surface. _I-I killed the assassin. Does that make me an assassin? A murderer?_ Shaking his hands, he shoved them out of his sight, willing the image of blood stained hands to flee from his mind. _Murderer...killer of men...Harbinger of sadness...my fault..._

"Merlin! The Prince has been asking for you. You must hurry to his quarters, the match will be starting soon."

Starting violently, the slave jerked at the sudden appearance of the squire, Sam, who was watching him with careful eyes. Avoiding his gaze, Merlin nodded as he scrubbed his hands against his breeches. Sam waited for the slave to get to his feet, before he followed him back towards the castle interior. He watched as every few feet, the slave would rub the back of his hands on his shirt, or breeches. Frowning, the squire tried to angle his head to see what it was on his hands that he was so desperate to get off, but he couldn't find anything. _His hands are cleaner than mine. _

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at the peasants sharing pleasantries with each other, smiles on their face and twinkles in their eyes. _That woman, I don't see her. I wonder-_His hands clenched into involuntary fists, his shoulders tightening in response to the sighting. _The knight. He saw me! He's looking straight at me. At Sam! No, no, no..._

Digging his feet into the dirt, he stopped abruptly, causing the squire to turn to him inquiringly.

"I know the way back, I don't need you to show me."

"Wha-? But I-"

"_Go._"

Blinking, the squire nodded jerkily, before he set off at a run back towards the castle, glancing behind him only once to see the slave also glancing over his own shoulder, a shadow crossing his face.

Merlin weaved his way across the courtyard careful to stay in the heavily populated areas, only glancing over his shoulder when he felt eyes on boring into his back. _He's still following me. _Turning around to face forward, he sidestepped to his right, his arms flailing as he tried to find balance. A moment later he regained his footing, and breathed a sigh of relief which morphed into a groan. Clouded brown eyes searched his face, wisps of curly chocolate colored hair framed the maidservant's face. _Why now? Why Gwen?_

"Merlin! Oh! Um, I-I wanted to-"

"Not now Gwen, Prince Arthur is calling for me."

"I-I know, but I still wanted to talk to you-"

She cut off as she watched the slave stiffen like a board Behind him a knight in mustard colored tunic passed glancing down at the boy as he went. Her breath caught in her chest, _Why do I feel so cold? _ She shivered in response. Sensing her distress, Merlin turned his back to her as he stepped in front of her, shielding her from the gaze of the knight. Through the thin but large material, she could see the boy's muscles constrict, then ease ever so slightly once the man was gone.

"I am so sorry Gwen, I have to go."

Like a deer being hunted, he leapt forward, racing of her sight. Leaving her to stare at his back once more. _Always at his back, that's all he shows me anymore. He won't meet my eyes, he won't even talk to me. He's shutting himself away. Cutting himself free. Why won't he let me help him? _

Slowing his steps, Merlin glanced around, warm sunlight filtered from open window, glinting off some dust particles in the air. Like some choreographed dance they swirled, dipped, floated and moved to an unheard beat. A few servants lingered by the windows, their face upturned in the light, reveling in the warmth it provided. Eventually they left, leaving the slave to stare after them.

_SsssSssssssSsss_

Whirling around, Merlin's eyes darted at every shadow, every movement, but he saw no reason for the faint hissing. He backed up a few steps until his back rested against the stone wall, he felt more reassured with his back against something so firm, strong, immoveable.

_SSssssssssss_

_There!_ The slave turned to his right but only saw more light filtering through a series of windows down the hall. He backed up a few steps, feeling the sudden breeze of the open window on his right. The soft scuffing of boots against the stone floor had the boy spinning around, now the window was on his left as he faced the knight with the shield. The knight from the stall, where the dead man lay undiscovered. Here he stood with him, alone.

"Merlin, was it? That was what the squire called you, yes?"

His hand grasped at the window ledge, the feeling of the rough stone against his skin comforting. He didn't answer, even though it was required by his station. He said nothing to the knight who towered over him.

"I asked you a question, boy."

The slave tried not to flinch at the menace in the knight's voice as he took a step forward, forcing Merlin to take a step in retreat. Changing tactics, the knight took a step to his left bringing him to the slave's right side. Merlin matched his step, realizing as he did so that his back was now facing the open window. The third floor widow sat a good fifty feet off of the ground. Another breeze ruffled his thin tunic and his body reacted with a shiver both out of coldness and fear. _If I were to fall it is a long drop, death would be certain. _Blinking, he tried to clear his vision which sudden went blurry, when that didn't work he shook his head lightly. He watched as the edge of the man's lips twisted into a smirk, _he planned that. He's going to kill me! Push me out of the window! _

The man brought his shield up, the one with the interlocking three snakes. Merlin's eyes were immediately drawn to it, and he paused, confused. If he squinted he could just barely make out a strange haze to the shield. It vibrated with sense of viability that a shield would not normally have. _I didn't see that before. What changed? _Narrowing his eyes, he gasped softly, the shield wiggled a sickly green color as the snakes themselves moved. _They moved! They're alive! _

Merlin tried to back up further, but his boots collided with the stone wall and his back hit empty space. _Open window, right. Bad idea. _His hands felt along the ledge, digging in for a hold.

The knight stalked forward, his shield held up menacingly in front of him, snakes aimed at the slave. The knight opened his mouth to say something.

"_MERlin!"_

The slave jumped in surprise, the knight jerked backwards bumping the slave as he did. Merlin's hands scrambled along the wall for a hold but he missed as his fingers lost all traction. It was as if the boy lost all control of his body, his limbs were limp and lethargic. He felt his stomach rise in his throat as his body arched backwards into the open space. His face a picture of surprise, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes impossibly wide; wind raked it hands through his untamed ebony hair.

He jerked to a halt. His neck protesting at the offending angle in which he stopped. He felt a weight against his knees. He bent his head forward and saw Prince Arthur had grabbed him by the front of his shirt, his blue eyes wide with fear. In the next instant Merlin felt himself being pulled back inside; he fell forward onto his knees, his shirt still grasped in the Prince's hand. Arthur sat on his haunches, one hand bracing him up with the other still buried in the slave's shirt, his chest heaving at the effort.

"What in the name of Camelot _do you think you were doing?_"

Merlin didn't have the strength to answer him, he barely had the energy to keep himself from collapsing on the ground. He focused on his breathing, _In, out, in, out...breathe..._

"I am sorry Sire, I was merely showing the boy my shield."

"Be more careful next time...?"

"Knight Valiant, my lord."

Prince Arthur dismissed the knight with nod. The knight glared at the still trembling slave who was unable to meet anyone's eyes, he spun on his heel and stormed down the hall. Prince Arthur glanced from the retreating knight to the boy, his bow furrowed.

"Are you okay, M-, um?"

" 'mf'ne."

"You don't look it. You're shaking, and pale."

"Is that you're excuse for clinging onto me like some girl?"

Scoffing, Prince Arthur smiled at the response until he saw the slave look pointedly at his fist which was still embedded in his shirt. Flushing, Arthur released his hold, he carded his fingers through his hair in a nervous tick.

"Well if you hadn't _swooned _like a young maiden, perhaps I would not have had reason to grab you."

Prince Arthur watched as the slave opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself. The superior smirk dropped from his face, instead smoothing over into a look of indifference, eyes becoming shadowed as he retreated into himself. The Prince sighed. Heaving himself to his feet, he waited for Merlin to do the same. He resisted the urge to help the boy up. The boy tried to brace himself up by leaning heavily on the stone wall, his face graying from the effort. _Has he taken ill? _

"The tournament begins shortly, we should head down to the tent and suit up. Be sure to grab my shield and sharpened sword, yeah?"

"Yes Sire."

Forcing himself to his feet, the slave pushed away from the wall and with trembling limbs wobbled his way back to the Prince's room where he found the sword and shield waiting. Hefting the two, he set about the quickest way he knew to the field. Every so often, he glanced around letting his senses roam the immediate surroundings but no matter how many times he checked he still couldn't find the source of constant hissing that followed him like a persistent shadow.

Nearly tripping into the tent, Merlin allowed a twinge of magic to escape him, balancing his equilibrium once more. The instant he was righted, he was nearly bowled over by a wave of dizziness. He stopped moving, swaying slightly, he waited for the moment to pass.

"Well don't just stand around there, hurry up!"

Setting the shield and sword down carefully, the slave moved slowly to the table and began getting the Prince ready; as he was able to pull the chainmail into place, he cleared his throat.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but go ahead anyways."

"If you knew something about someone, that might help save a life but no physical evidence to support a claim, wh-what would you do?"

"Someone's life is in danger? Report it of course."

"Even if it meant you might be severely punished?"

"Why would you be punished for trying to save a life?"

"If it meant tarnishing the reputation of someone of higher statue?"

"Like-a knight? Mer-Do you know something about a knight? Is it Knight Valiant? Has he done something to you?"

"I-"

"Go on, what is it?"

The slave's hands stopped their ministrations as he fought to control his thoughts, gathering his courage. _Go on tell him, it could save his life. If he is aware he can be on guard in case he tries something. But I am just a slave. A slave's word against a knight is worthless in comparison. I just as soon be killed for such an accusation! What if I don't tell Arthur and Knight Valiant hurts him, or Gwen...or Sam?! _

Prince Arthur watched the conflicting emotions battle across the boy's face, his worrying lip caught between his top teeth.

"Tell me."

Glancing up at the Prince through the fringe of his bangs, he stared into his blue eyes, searching them. _This is it. I can tell him. I can warn him. _

"If I told you Knight Valiant was using sorcery, his shield, and that he killed a man earlier today. What would you do?"

"Did he?" Arthur paused for a minute. Merlin watched as thoughts and debates swam across the Princes eyes. _Maybe I shouldnt have said anything. I shouldn't. I should have just kept my mouth shut. I always make things wor_-Arthur interrupted his self-accusations "I want you to think before you answer this, do you swear that what you say is true? On your word of honor?"

Merlin lifted his head. Not daring to blink, he stared into the Prince's eyes, "I swear, that what I tell you on pain of death is true, that Knight Valiant is using magic. Please, Sire, I fear he means to kill you."

Prince Arthur held the slave's gaze, "I believe you. But you must know that without proof, without solid undeniable proof we can't approach the court. The punishment for slander against a Knight's honor is a harsh one."

"I know, that is why I hesitated to tell."

The slave whispered, his eyes finally dropping to the ground in shame. A warm, slight pressure on his shoulder had him look up to find the Prince standing an arm's length away, with his hand squeezing his shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me, I know it took extraordinary courage to do so. I think you should stay here, Knight Valiant seems to know of your suspicions; if what happened earlier wasn't an accident as he said. That and you look like you are able to keel over."

Merlin couldn't help the smile that flitted on his face before he forced it off. He nodded, keeping his eyes lowered per his station. He felt the loss of warmth when the Prince's hand fell away from his shoulder. He heard the tent flap move as the Arthur exited, he waited for it to close behind him. He looked up when he didn't hear the swish of fabric. Arthur was standing in the doorway, his face conflicted with emotions.

"I thank you for your courage, and I hope that when the time comes you are able to find that same strength to fight for what _you _believe in. To defend those you care about. A life isn't worth living if you don't have something to cherish, something worth risking even your own life to protect. I hope you find that."

A swish of fabric and the Prince was gone, leaving Merlin alone with his thoughts. All around him the sounds of chatter slowly dissipated as the crowd moved into the stands a short distance away, his mind swirled with conflicting thoughts, desire and wishes. He felt confused, angry and despair. He could hear the crowd roar at what he presumed was the opening ceremony. He heard the sounds of sword clattering against shield, against it's own kin, and the slave shuddered. _What I am doing in here? I should be out there, watching, protecting. But Arthur knows, he knows to be wary of Valiant. He told me to stay here. But Valiant is using sorcery, he has no defense against that. He can't use it in public, he'd be killed instantly. Get up, it is still your duty to protect the Prince. I don't think I can, I feel so...tired._

So deep in thought was the boy that he didn't register when the crowd settled down after the completion of the first fight and the readying of the next one. Merlin wrung his hands as his mind tossed and turned his meager options. His thoughts took a darker turn, and with it his eyesight. He turned his head but the lighting didn't change, it was still much dimmer than it had been only a few minutes ago. He tried to take a step forward but his body refused to comply, it merely weaved drunkenly. His hand fumbled behind him, searching for the chair he knew was near. It collided with the sturdy oak and he jerked it forward as his body collapsed backwards. He landed in the chair heavily, the back of it digging into his limp form.

His mind sluggishly turned to his body's weakness, _What is wrong with me? I am fine one moment and then so tired the next. Tired and cold. _He shivered, his body trembling at some unseen chill. The boy's teeth chattered against one another, uncontrollably. He tried to move his fingers but they failed to respond.

_SSSSsssssSSssss_

Merlin's body spasmed ever so slightly at the strange hissing that sounded close. _Valiant! The snake! I can't move. He's trying to take me out before I could warn Arthur. He's too late. Even if I die, I already warned Arthur. I did what I had to do._

His blue eyes searched the tent agitatedly as far as he was able without moving his head. He saw nothing but he heard it, he could hear it getting closer and closer. The hissing crescendoed as it slithered to him, its body weaving hypnotically as it finally entered the boy's line of sight. Helplessly he watched as it sidled its way up to the legs of the chair and wound its way up, trapping the slave's legs in the process. It curled around his body, tightening as it make its way up.

Merlin's breath quickened in terror as the snake's head came up to his chest height, but it wasn't done there, it coiled around the back of the chair and over his chest restricting his air flow as it did. Black dots danced in his silted vision, his head drooped until it rested against the back of the chair, his neck at a painful angle. His adam's apple bobble once more as he swallowed for the last time. The snake hissed in his ear, its tongue flicking at the edges as it poised to strike in the vunerable area of his throat.

The boy heard a strange rushing sound that he assumed was death swooping down on him. The world became muffled as his brain finally realized it was receiving no air. He was trapped in a hypnopompic state, neither asleep nor awake. And then there was just pain. A swift flash of pain like a poker against his skin was the last thing his mind registered as he felt his body give out against the lack of oxygen.

_Just Breathe..._

**AN:** Such a hard chapter write! This one totally kicked my butt because this is a pivot point in the story, and I really wanted it to come out right.

What do you think, did it work? Only a few chapters left to go; 4 maybe?

Squeeeeeeeee! Love you!

And just a shout out for Colin M. at the NTAs, congrats!

Rehabilitated Sith 1-23-13

8,381 words.

**+++I will also be posting a NEW fanfic, this one is a mini ficlet of only 3 chapters, so no fear, S.I has priority, please look forward to that as well; called "Too Late, Too Soon."+++**


	19. Chapter 17

A/N: I have been told that the tournament is best enjoyed with a bowl of popcorn, so just an FYI.

Chapter 17

A sudden release of pressure took the slave by surprise, but his body was ready, he drank deep gulps of air into his starving body. He felt a weight settle over his shoulders at the same time as he caught sight of a red blurry blob directly in front of him. With a tremendous amount of effort, he rolled his head forward and tipped to the right. _Ughhhh._ He tried to focus on the blob in front of him that was slowly getting clearer as his mind adjusted to the new supply of air.

_Blink. Blink._

The red blob cleared to a red blob with blond hair and shiny skin? _Arthur, that has to be Prince Arthur. Is his match over already? Did he win? Is it over? _

He could only watch numbly as the arm, of what he supposed was Prince Arthur, reached around his line of vision and unwound the weight from off of his body. Relieved, the slave then proceeded to slide down and off of the chair now that there was nothing holding him in place. Twin hands caught him under his armpits and shifted his weight so that his body was in a more stable position.

Merlin's head lolled to the front and he saw something red drip onto his pants. _Darn, those were my last clean pair. Where'd Arthur go? Did he leave?_

His question was answered a moment later when the red blob came back into his view. The Prince knelt on one knee as he tried to catch the slave's eye. Hands rested on either side of his cheekbones and carefully lifted his head so that he was able to meet him eye to eye. Blearily, Merlin squinted. The Prince's face came into better focus and he saw his lips moving, forming words he assumed but still unable to understand. He focused on lifting one hand. When he was able to accomplish that, he then directed his meagre strength to flopping said hand on the arm of the Prince.

Arthur glanced down at the hand, and back up to the slave, his eyes trailing briefly over the wound on his face.

"Merlin? Are you OK? Merlin?"

The slave in question furrowed his brow as he tried to form words of his own. His lips felt swollen, limp and not quite attached to his body. He shook his head, his eyes trying to convey to the Prince what his body was unable. The slave's blue eyes were pale, almost grey in color, nearly devoid of its normal vibrant hue. Arthur couldn't bring himself to stare at them too long; instead, he focused on checking him over for injuries. Save the gash to his face, the slave appeared free from wounds. He took a moment to arrange Merlin's head so that it rested more comfortably on the chair as he retrieved the snake head from off of the floor.

Careful to avoid its fangs, he turned it over in his hand trying to think if he had ever seen anything remotely like it in his travels. _No, this is definitely something new. In fact, this bares a strong resemblance to the snakes on Valiant's shield. _The Prince cursed under his breath as the implication of that hit home. _He knows, and now he will try to silence the boy in order to protect himself against his deception and murderous plot. I can't let Merlin out of my sight, else he succeed in his attempts. _

Movement to his left had him glancing back towards the slave, who was trying to sit up. Kicking the carcass of the strange snake, Arthur set the head on the table and approached the boy. Merlin lifted his head at his approach, wincing as he pulled his knees in towards the legs of the chair, using his hands to brace his body up so that he was able to scoot back against the chair's support. He exhaled heavily, his hand twitching up to touch his cheek that still dribbled blood down his chin.

"Sorry about that."

The slave looked up at the Prince, his furrow puckered in confusion.

"You saved my life, nothing to apologize for...although..." the slave trailed off, his voice hoarse, _I almost got to see Freya again. Would that have been so bad? I could have apologized to her properly._

"Valiant means to kill you. From now on you are not to leave my line of sight, not until this is over."

Prince Arthur glanced down at the slave, who in turned, looked up to him. He waited until the boy nodded his understanding before he turned back to the decapitated snake head. Pacing, he clenched and unclenched his fist as his mind churned with questions and very few answers. Back and forth he moved, rounding into an elliptical shaped turn. He moved quickly and without thought to his actions.

Merlin watched him, his head turning side to side with the Prince's movements. In the background he could faintly hear the cheers of the crowd as the other contestants sill battled for their chance at victory. Neither spoke to the other, their minds otherwise occupied.

The stalemate was broken when a servant stood just outside their tent and announced that the second round of the tournaments would begin shortly. The Prince called out his acknowledgement of the summons and waited until the servant had left before he turned back to the slave who was now struggling to stand. His arms seemed to tremble at the idea of holding up his small amount of weight, something the Prince found himself amused at. He stepped forward to help the boy, but that appeared to strengthen the boy's resolve. He straightened in spite of the wave of dizziness that accompanied his change in altitude.

Waiting, he watched as the boy made a valiant effort at making his way towards the tent flap, there he waited for the Prince, who stood watching him, his face a reflection of his approval at the inner strength the boy demonstrated.

"Ahem."

Arthur picked up his shield from where he had dropped it when he first came in and seen the snake.

"Your cheek, we should get that looked at. You look like you had fought in the tournament instead of me."

Flushing in embarrassment, the boy scrubbed at his face, ignoring the sting as the fabric came in contact with the still open wound. The dried blood flaked off with his slight scrubbing enough so that it wasn't as obvious as it had been, although the tinge of crimson still stuck out against his alabaster skin tones. Arthur approached the flap and watched the boy as he lifted the fabric on his behalf, allowing the Prince to exit first.

"In front."

"My lord?"

"You are to walk in front of me so that I can keep my eye on you."

"That wouldn't be proper, Sire."

"It is because I ordered you to do so. Now, where's Leon? Ah, there he is."

The Prince made a slight detour to the curly haired knight, and spoke in low tones. When the knight glanced at the slave then back at the tent, Merlin realized that the knight was being instructed to remove the evidence for safe keeping. The slave redirected his eyes to the ground, but couldn't help notice when the knight passed by him on his way to his new assignment.

"Now, we have a tournament to win."

Dragging his feet forward, he tried to get as much of the dried blood off of himself as possible without drawing attention to it. Surreptitiously, he wet an edge of his sleeve and dabbed at his face as naturally as he could, his eyes darting through the crowd for the bright yellow tunic of Valiant. He started violently when the crowd erupted in cheers as the match closed with one knight on the ground, his helmet knocked off and still rolling to the side.

Merlin's shoulders eased slightly as he felt the familiar presence next to him. Arthur stood shoulder to shoulder with him. He noted with surprise that if he straightened his back he would be about the same height as the Prince. He amused himself briefly as he stood tall for a moment then returned to his normal, slightly slumped posture and repeated it a few times.

"What are you doing?"

"Erm, nothing."

The slave resumed his slumped stature, his ears burning red at the attention he had inadvertently drawn to himself. He was careful not to catch the Prince's eye as they both waited for the next match to be announced. A flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye had the slave's attention before his mind registered the significance. A few paces from them and approaching was Knight Valiant, his shield in hand. _It still has the three snakes entwined. Did the snake that was killed not reflect on the physical form? _

Tilting his head up, he bumped his shoulder against the Prince, which caused him to look over irritably before he realized why. Seeing the approaching knight, he shouldered his way in front of the slave, his body becoming a physical shield for the slight boy. _What is he doing?! Is he trying to protect me? Why?_ _That's my destiny. To protect him. There are too many around though, he can't do anything with so many people around, right? _ Angling his body, Merlin put himself in a position that he was able to react if the occasion called for it.

"It looks like we will be in the finals, Prince Arthur."

"It would seem that way, Knight Valiant."

Servants and knights alike took notice of the meeting of the two rivals and took a step back as a palpable tension filled the air between the two. A smirk wormed its way onto the knight's face as his eyes flitted towards the slave, who dropped his gaze as was proper. Arthur watched the exchange and responded with a step forward in warning, his voice lowered he hissed, "No amount of sorcery will save you in the arena, mark my words. The Court will know of your treachery before this day is through."

"If you have a complaint, by all means, bring it before the Court and I am sure they would be interested to know _where _these unfounded accusations originated."

Arthur understood the implied threat, and didn't reply, his eyes burning with restrained fury at his audacity. The Prince laid a hand on the slave's arm and pushed him back a little. Shuffling backwards, the slave was confused why they were retreating, not having heard the exchange as quiet as their words were spoken. They left to place themselves ready for Arthur's entrance into his next fight. Merlin looked back, and saw Valiant glowering at the Prince's back, a stone of dread sank heavily in his belly.

-m0(-,-)0m-

Merlin watched as entered the arena, his back straight and confident, shield gripped loosely in his hand as he faced the crowd and waited for his opponent to enter. The slave inched his way out and around the crowd standing near the entrance, so that his back was to the wall. Feeling the rough stones, he leaned backwards, grateful for the support as his legs trembled every so often, his eyes flickering open in defiance as a wave of sleepiness crashed over him. He dug his fingers into the stone in an effort to keep himself upright.

The Prince's opponent entered. They both waited for the Uther's signal to begin. When the King's hand dropped, the Prince immediately crouched down, his shield in front of him and his sword held aloft. They circled each other like hunter's to their prey, their eyes searching for a weakness to exploit. Prince Arthur watched, his eyes sharp to every movement his opponent made no matter how tiny. He saw as his right arm moved forward slightly bring the sword with it, how the left hand would then compensate for the advance. He saw the knight's footwork and how he kept himself balanced and grounded without thought.

The stalemate lasted for several long moments before the knight lunged forward, using his left shielded arm to bat the Prince's out of the way, striking downward. Arthur saw it coming and used his own shield to deflect the blow, carrying through to slam his shield into the chin of the knight. Valiant reeled backwards at the blow, his helmet shifting slightly to cover his eyes as he tried to adjust it back into place. The Prince danced backwards a pace or two to give the knight time and ready his next attack.

Taking the opportunity, Arthur glanced out his peripheral view to track Merlin, and in exchange Knight Valiant, whom he didn't see in the slave's proximity. Gathering his attention back to the knight, he brought his sword to bear; they clashed with a metallic clang as each put their strength behind it. Arthur lashed out with a strong kick to the knight's gut, causing him to fold slightly. The knight gasped as his breath left him, he squinted against the sweat that trickled down his brow and threatened to fall in his eye. Holding his breath, he managed to straighten in time to block the Prince's next strike with his shield. The knight grunted at the impact as he tried to draw breath against the throbbing of his stomach.

The knight tried to swipe at the Prince's left side while his sword glanced off the shield, but Arthur anticipated it and jumped backwards using a downward thrust of his own shield to guard against the attack. Both contenders broke away from the other, taking the moment to gather their breath as well as their bearings. The crowd around them cheered enthusiastically at their display.

Prince Arthur felt a rush of adrenaline flood his veins as he took the first move. Crouching so that his knees were slightly bent, he rushed the knight, his sword already coming down. He saw the knight moved to counter it with his sword. Leaning into the strike, Arthur braced himself. Hooking his foot around the ankle of the knight, he swiped it backwards, sending the knight crashing to the ground; his shield flew from his grasp and rolled just out of his reach.

The roars of acclimation rang in the Prince's ears. He smiled in appreciation of their approval, but he kept his focus on his opponent who had rolled to his feet gracefully. The knight circled Arthur, who matched his footwork with his own, he tried to fake him out and lunge then retreat but Arthur didn't react to the taunt. Bidding his time, Arthur checked the position of Merlin. A foolish move. At the same moment of his distraction, his opponent scooped up his shield and used it as cover for his sword. Arthur moved to block the shield, missing the glint of the sword as it nearly skewered him in the stomach. By chance, his own shield slipped down just enough that it took a glancing blow.

Cursing himself for his distraction, the Prince refocused himself. He tried to kicked out to create more distance between them, but the knight was ready for him. He shifted his shield causing Arthur to lose his balance and hit the ground with an explosion of air. Immediately he was rolling to avoid any potential downward strike, causing the sand to kick up, creating a temporary cloud cover. He lost control of his shield with the roll and barely saw it clatter to the ground several feet away.

Coming up on one knee, Arthur gripped his sword with two hands, pushing himself up off of the ground while the sand was still settling. He was able to catch the knight unaware with a strike to his shield, the force of which caused violent vibrations to thrum throughout the knight's arm. Taking advantage of the weakened arm, Arthur shoved him off balance with his shoulder. The impact of his shoulder against the shield caused it to slam backward into the knight's helmet.

The metal protection crumpled slightly against the onslaught. Arthur watched the knight stagger backwards, his head and body weaving with a drunkard's balance. The Prince took no pity on the knight. He kicked the back of the man's knees causing him to fall messily to the ground, his helmet flying off, sword slipping from limp fingers. Arthur waited but the knight did not get back up. The crowd showed their boisterous support of the Prince with little flags waving frenziedly in the air. Arthur faced his fans, removing his own helmet to even louder cheers.

-m0(-,-)0m-

Merlin watched Arthur fight, impressed with the skills of both men as they fought for glory and honor. His focus was disrupted as he felt algid fingers wrap around his throat, sending shivers down his spine. His hand automatically sought his neck. As his fingers touched the metal band beneath his neckerchief he was shocked to find it while cold, it was not to the same degree as what he had felt moments ago. Vigorously he rubbed the back of his neck, in an attempt to warm his chilled skin. The effort barely had any effect, so he loosened the ends of his neckerchief just enough so that he was able to tighten it and, in theory, hold in his own body heat, even if it wasn't by much. Glancing around, the slave tried to find the reason for his magic to prickle uneasily, he didn't see Knight Valiant in the immediate vicinity. Neither he didn't notice anyone projecting any anger towards the Prince.

_I don't understand. What is it? Prince Arthur is about to win, so why am I reacting this way? Is Valiant about to make a move? _

The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck lifted as if charged by some unseen energy. He tensed as he turned, leaving the safety of the wall at his back to survey the crowd. The flash of muted blue caught his eye. He glanced briefly to see Draco moving from his spot behind his King; disregarding him, he shifted to find Knight Valiant. He allowed his eyes to flit over the inconsequential women, young women, and boys. He focused only on the men, passing over the ones not girded in armor. _There!_

Clearing a path in his direction was the knight in question, his eyes focused solely on the slave. Merlin froze. He could feebly hear clapping around him but he didn't react, his attention solely fixated on the converging knight. The man was less than ten feet from the slave, his eyes glinted with the promise of pain. Merlin's mind screamed at him to move, to react, to get out of the way, to at least seek shelter amongst the crowd where the knight wouldn't dare attack. With Valiant five feet away, the slave was finally able to move his lead-laden legs. Stumbling backwards, he mumbled apologies as he bumped into various servants in his attempt to get away.

He faltered as his feet sank into the soft sand at the edge of the arena. Spinning around, Merlin was instantly relieved to see Arthur striding towards him. He felt the jostling and pushing as others came to congratulate the Prince on his success. Just as Arthur approached, Merlin felt the presence of someone else at his back and from the look on the Prince's face glaring over his shoulder he knew it to Knight Valiant. Within seconds Arthur had grabbed the slave by the upper arm while positioning himself in front of him to meet his presumed final opponent.

"That was an interesting match. For a moment I wondered if you were having problems focusing on your opponent. I wouldn't recommend allowing such distractions in our fight."

"Should you make it to the final round, I look forward to our fight."

Valiant scoffed at the notion that he would be eliminated before facing the Prince. A horn blared somewhere to their left and Valiant looked over to where the next knight was awaiting his turn.

"This match will be over soon, then we shall find ourselves on the field opposing one another, _Prince _Arthur."

The Prince glared at the man as he made his way to his side of the ring, waiting for his signal. A squirming sensation brought him back to Merlin who was trying to free his arm from the Prince's tightening grasp. Realizing that he had been gripping it harder throughout the confrontation, he let go as if stung by coals, his neck flushing.

Luckily at that point, the crowd cheered as the contenders' entered the arena and faced the royals on the stand. With the signal given, they turned to eachother, helmets on and swords at the ready. Knight Valiant took charge immediately slashing at the shield, the force of which nearly ripped it from the knight's hand. He followed through with hit after hit, not allowing his opponent to gather his bearings. The knight taking the brunt of the blows fell to one knee as his strength continued to wane under the onslaught. Valiant took advantage of his fallen state, planting a foot to his chest and knocking him flat on his back.

The crowd gasped at the impact, hands to mouth as they watched Valiant finish his opponent off. The arena was silent as the victorious knight rose to meet them, his sword raised. Uther was the first to react, his hands coming together in a loud clap which was soon followed by his reluctant subjects.

Merlin and Arthur glanced at the crowd, noting the faces of several who were turned away from the knight, their flags still in their hands as they avoided looking towards the arena.

"It would seem that the crowd is not as attached to Valiant as they were previously."

"With good reason, that fight was not an honorable one-," Arthur murmured out of the side of his mouth to the slave.

The Prince's eyes were wide as he saw his Father descend from his position to come down and congratulate Knight Valiant. He watched as the King clapped the knight on the shoulder, and laughed at something he said. He watched and wondered why his Father had not done so to him after his own victories. Turning away, he motioned for Merlin to follow him as they made their way to waiting area for the next fight which would be the final battle: Valiant versus Arthur. As he approached the designated area, he pulled up short when he saw that the visiting King was there, waiting for him.

"Ah, Arthur, I wanted to congratulate you on a fine performance."

Merlin made sure to stay out of the Severus's line of sight as best he could without drawing attention to the fact that he was avoiding him. He listened as the King bestowed praises on the Prince, discussing the finer points of his match and how his opponent faired. He rolled his eyes as he watch Arthur straighten slightly, his shoulders brought back in a more confident poise. Glancing around, the slave noted that Uther had returned to his former seat and was watching the Prince and King interact. His face was pensive as he observed the two, and when he caught the slave's eye, Merlin was quick to avert his gaze.

That was when Merlin noted Draco, the King's Servant, taking the long route around to where Severus was. He saw him exchange a few words with a Camelot servant next to Valiant, who didn't react but the Knight did. He glared after the servant. _Probably not wise to wish Arthur luck when his opponent is standing a foot from you. _Although Merlin couldn't blame the man for taunting the Knight, he had his own desire to but knew such a move would probably result in some sort of bodily harm upon himself.

The slave's eyes darted to Draco's. He was smirking as he came towards his King and Prince Arthur. Merlin glanced towards the Knight, Valiant was scowling at the servant's back, his eyes shifted to Merlin's and it deepened into a look of pure loathing. A shiver raked down the slave's body as if someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water over his head, causing the goosebumps to explode across his skin. He locked his knees in an effort to keep himself upright as Draco came to rest just to the left, slightly behind, his King.

The cold metal ring around Merlin's neck seemed to freeze, turning frigid against his skin. He winced, his hand reaching to separate it from his neck as much as possible. His hand stopped only inches from his hip, trembling at the effort, Merlin frowned, _Why am I so tired? I need to watch Valiant, he's bound to try something during his match with Arthur._ Unable to get his hand to respond further, he settled for rolling his shoulders, causing the necklet to shift with the motions. Satisfied that he was able to move it enough so that the discomfort was more of a distraction, he blinked to clear his slightly fuzzy vision. He saw that Draco was watching him with some interest. _That's odd; normally Draco can't stand to be near me._ Feeling like he was misunderstanding the servant, he glanced behind him, _Ah, that makes more sense. I can't really blame him, she is beautiful. _

The slave recognized the King's Ward standing with her maid, Gwen, as well as the serving girl from several days ago. _What was her name? Sara? No. Beth? No. Bethia. Bethia?! They must not have realized that the King was so close. She needs to get out of here before he sees her. _ Merlin cursed under his breath, his mind raced with all the possible options to help the girl. Shifting the weight on his feet, Merlin casually took a step to the right, blocking Draco and Severus' view of the trio.

Taking care to glance at Arthur, who was still deep in conversation, he looked around as if he needed to find something to aid the Prince. When a peasant moved between him and the King, the slave took his chance. With quick steps, he bowed as he caught the attention of the Lady Morgana.

"Please excuse my interruption, My Ladies, but I fear it would be best, if Bethia moved to another location. You are dangerously close to being seen by the King."

Morgana looked confused, "What do you mean? Uther is fawning over Knight Valiant over there."

"Not _that _one, King Severus, my Master."

The slave heard Bethia gasp, her breath seemingly caught in her throat as it reflexively tightened in remembrance of their last encounter. Her eyes darted to behind the slave and widened when they realized just how near they were. Her hands trembled as they fisted in her skirt, twitching all the while.

Morgana took charge; she wrapped an arm around the girl and looked for an escape route that wouldn't draw attention to them. Merlin already plotted several steps ahead of them and motion for them to duck around stands and underneath until they emerged on the other side.

"Y-you don't thi-think he'd try again, do you?"

Merlin was at a loss, _He has always had some sort of fixation with blonde haired blue eyed women, I don't think I have heard of any trouble any other servants or ladies have had that did not fallen into that category._

"I'm sorry. I don't know. Can you think of any reason that you caught his attention?"

"No. It's like I told you earlier, I had just walked in to deliver things to the room and when he saw me coming through the doors. He just froze, he seemed startled. I apologized for startling him, and moved to leave the things as directed and that's when he rushed to me. He was saying something, though I'm not sure what. It might have been gibberish."

Merlin grasped onto that little bit of information, "What? What was he saying?"

"Just one thing, over and over."

She paused as she struggled to remember what it was. She light pink lips formed the beginnings of a word as she went over it again in her mind.

"To me, I thought it was some sort of a charm, or foreign language. It sounded like...Yii ger ahne...? He just kept repeating it, over and over again."

The serving girl clapped her hands over her ears, as if she were hearing it also as she said it. The trembling increased just as they reached the stands. Both the women on either side of her tried to help her settle her fears as she relieved the terror.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, just forget it! Cast it from your mind."

Merlin reached out a hand tentatively, it too shaking, allowing his fingertips to brush against her sleeve very briefly. The contact was enough, a warm feeling seemed to spread from the touch throughout her body, calming her mind and relaxing her muscles. She sagged slightly in relief, her face clearing of the lines of anxiety that had once bound her. She sighed lightly.

Gwen rubbed Bethia's arms soothingly, glad that their ministrations seemed to have had an effect in calming the poor girl down. The announcement for the final challenge was given and they bid the slave farewell as he hurried as fast as his lethargic legs could take him. He made it to Arthur's side just as he prepared to step into the arena. The Prince spared one glance to make sure that the slave was unharmed, before he took his place opposite Knight Valiant, who just bowed to Uther and waited for the commencement.

Arthur bowed as well, his muscles taunt with anticipation. He didn't figure that this would be a fair fight and in all probability there was a chance that he might not survive it. _There!_ The signal was given and already the Prince was moving backwards, determined to put as much space between him and his opponent as possible. While this was a close quarters combat, he had no illusion that getting close to the Knight was such a wise thing to do. If he were close, he knew that he would be in prime position to be attacked by the snakes of his shield.

Valiant saw the Prince make space between them, a smirk cutting across his features. He clenched his fingers tightly over the handle of his hilt and dug his feet into the sand, launching himself at the Prince. They met with a loud clash of their swords and shields. They traded blows, one after another, some landing and other being deflected. He smiled as he felt his body thrum with excitement. He had been waiting for this moment since the tournament had started. He knew it would come down to the two of them as he fought the others and watched the Prince's own fights.

He had studied his moves and prepared his own counters, his sword and footwork were in excellent form. He thrust, slashed, parried and fought with every ounce of his strength and was rewarded to see the Prince struggling at moments and frustrated in the next as he continued to be countered despite his efforts. The fight wore on under the gruelling sun which bore down on them relentlessly. Sweat rolled down his brow and into his eye and he cursed the sun. His armor was also heating up until the constant onslaught.

They broke apart after another furious bout of strength and skill. They were both breathing hard, eyes still probing for weaknesses. Knight Valiant was seething, all his moves were being countered, block, and parried. He released all his fury on the Prince, his swipes, stabs and thrusts were backed by his full weight. Arthur was barely blocking them in time, his arms started to tremble from the constant relentless hits. Biting his lip, the Prince waited just a moment longer than normal, waiting until the Knight stepped into his circle.

Manoeuvring himself into position, he angled his foot behind Valiant's and used his weight to push him off balance. With another slight encouragement the Knight crashed to the ground on his back. He retaliated by kicking the Prince's feet off from beneath him causing him to tumble to the floor beside him. Both the contenders lost their helmets as a result of the fall. With a roar, Valiant grappled with the Prince, rolling around in the dust, their swords and shields temporarily forgotten. Valiant managed to get his forearm against Arthur's throat, effectively cutting off his air, while he stretched to reach the nearest fallen sword.

Arthur gasped against his arm, his face reddening as the seconds passed him. His legs kicked beneath the weight of the knight, causing Valiant to not be able to grasp a hold of the weapon. Valiant lightened up ever so slightly in order to reach the weapon and finish the Prince off, deaf to the cries and shouts of the crowd. Arthur took a fist of the sand and with a quick movement threw it in the face of his opponent, while at the same time bucking him off. This time it was the Prince who was deaf to the cheering crowd, many of whom were on their feet, flags waving supportively. Rolling to his feet, Arthur coughed slightly against the discomfort his throat was giving him. He narrowed his eyes at the Knight but still he waited for him to gather his feet beneath him.

Merlin watched the match with growing anxiety, his legs shifting their weight as he weaved slightly on the spot. _Valiant just tried to kill him! In front of the crowd, in front of the King, his Father! Why didn't he step in? His only son and heir to the throne was nearly killed and he doesn't care?_ Frowning, he looked up to where Royalty sat. He saw Morgana, a hand to her mouth with her grass-colored eyes impossibly wide, her skin pale with fright. He saw Gwen sitting near her mistresses, one hand gripping tightly to Morgana's sleeve, her chest heaving as if she too were unable to draw breath. On Morgana's other side sat Uther. He sat on the edge of his seat, his hands gripping the arm rests in a death grip. His masseter muscle stood out, a testament to how tightly his jaw was clenched.

_He does care. Is he unable to interfere? Is there some sort of law against it?_

A sharp gasp from several in the crowd, brought Merlin's attention back to the match, _They must have clashed while my attention was away. Is that blood?! _Squinting, Merlin could see that underneath the front tails of Arthur's tunic was a splash of blood on the pants. The two were about three feet apart, Arthur without his sword and Valiant equipped with both his shield and sword.

_Something is happening! _The green haze that he had seen in that shop when the man was killed was back. It shimmered from the front of the shield for a few moments before the first snake peeked its head out and leaned towards the Prince hissing, it was followed by a second head not a moment later. Screams and cries echoed around Merlin as everyone else saw the snakes as well. Arthur had his hands out in front of him, glancing quickly to his Father who had risen from his seat at the blatant display of sorcery against his son. The first snake dropped to the arena's ground, followed by the other. The first one hissed as it lunged towards the Prince, he backed up in response towards Merlin.

"What are you doing? I didn't call you, go back!" Valiant hissed, but the arena carried his voice and all heard the confirmation of his guilt.

Thinking quickly, the slave grabbed the sword of a nearby knight.

"ARTHUR!"

The Prince leapt backwards to avoid the snapping fangs of the first snake, turning slightly to see the slave and he grinned at the sword in his hand. Merlin tossed the blade to the Prince, who caught it smoothly as he spun around, cleanly slicing the head off. The snake's body dropped to the ground, its head rolling in another direction.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief as Arthur was now armed and fighting. The Knight seemed stunned that the snakes had come out unbidden. It took only a few expert moves from the Prince to defeat his opponent, permanently. As he removed his sword to the cheers of the crowd, Merlin's eyes were roaming over those present. _Only a sorcerer could have called those snakes forth, and it wasn't me. There's another sorcerer in Camelot. Is it friend or foe? If they hadn't called the snakes out, Valiant wouldn't have been caught in his treachery and the snakes could have bitten Arthur. Who is it? The second person in the shop! That must have been the person who enchanted the shield to begin with, so why did they turn on Knight Valiant? _

"Merlin."

Merlin turned back to Prince who was hurrying towards him, his face lined with worry. Distantly he could hear the crowd and those around him scream, and he felt as though he had been punched in the gut. The air left his body as his eyes caught the sight of the green tail of the second snake as it slid it body around his feet. He felt its fangs sink into the flesh of his leg, just above his ankle. He felt the fire as its poison raced towards his heart and then his brain. He felt his body as it slumped forward. He saw the darkness as it crashed over him. He heard the tell-tale whisper of the Prince's sword as it separated the last snake's head from its body. He heard his name being called.

"Merlin!"

_Gwen...?_

_"Merlin!"_

_Gaius...?_

_"MERLIN!"_

_Arth-thur...?_

_AN:_ Oh man, whew...well that's the end of the tournament. And another one bites the dust! Poor guy, he dodged the first snake bite earlier that day, but not the second. He just can't get a break; am I being too mean to Merlin?

Oh, yeah, and next chapter? MAJOR REVEALS...any guesses?

Love you all! Please R/R if you want.

Rehabilitated Sith

AN2: Also pleased to note that my other story is being well received as well! squeals


	20. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Fire licked at the slave's body, crackling in the silence, lapping eagerly at his inert form. He wanted to move, wanted to bat it away but he was unable. He felt as though he was bound from head to foot in some sort of extremely thick rope. He didn't like the feeling, it reminded him of memories he had buried in the deepest recesses of his mind. He didn't like the feeling of being trapped, which was ironic because that is all he was. Trapped. Trapped in a life that wasn't his fault, bound to a man who only sought to use him for his own exploitations. Small moans made it past his lips as he felt the slow, arduous journey of a single bead of sweat meandering its way down his face. It tickled and not in a funny way, the heat seemed to be drawn to the moisture like it was offended that it even existed; so it attacked the droplet, heating it up to where it too hurt the boy who was powerless to swipe at it.

At the same moment, Merlin thought it would give in and evaporate, the temperature dropped. If he had opened his eyes, he would have seen the soft puffs of air that hung over his face each time he breathed out, no matter how shallow the breath. The already evaporated beads of sweat from earlier still left minute trails of down his temples causing him to become chilled as frigid fingers seemed to dance across his face. He shivered, trembled and convulsed as it continued to dip into colder and colder temperatures.

"Almost there...g've...nd... blankets..."

_Gaius?_

Gradually his trembling ceased. It was still so, so cold but for some reason his body either seemed to adjust to it or it was heating up again. He wanted to turn his head. He wanted to find the source of the voices he could faintly hear but his neck was rebelling, stubbornly unyielding like a mule.

"Antidote...? He'll be fine, right Gaius?"

"He should be well enough by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Oh...that's right, they leave tomorrow, for Ulbein..."

_Arthur? _

"If he makes it, but I don't think he will be leaving with them."

"What do you mean?"

Merlin strained to hear the next words but they were cruelly snatched away as new kind of fire took hold of him. The burning was an internal torment, not even the invisible bindings could stop his screams of pain. He screamed, and screamed and screamed. Even as his voice went hoarse, even as his mind begged for some sort of release he still screamed; and with it his magic screamed. It raged frothing under the surface, pounding, demanding to let it be free but it fell on deaf ears.

"What happened? What did you _do?_"

"Nothing Gaius, I swear. I was just watching him. Then I tried to check his temperature; do-do you think I hurt him? I didn't try to."

"Physical sensitivity is not a symptom of the snake venom, although we are dealing with a magical creature, the snake that is. I'm afraid there's not much else we can do but wait for the venom to run its course and pray that the anti-venom was administered in time."

"But you said he would be fine by tomorrow..."

"He wasn't screaming back then. Only time will tell. It's going to be a while before he wakes up. You had best make your way to the feast, you wouldn't want to be late for your own coronation, Sire."

"Just a few more minutes, Gaius."

"Very well, at least he has gone silent. We can only hope that he has entered a more restful peace."

_Venom? Oh, the snake...Valiant! No, he's dead. Arthur killed him. He won the match because the snakes came out of the shield on their own somehow. Sorcery. There's another sorcerer in Camelot but he didn't try to attack Arthur, well, or did he? It exposed Valiant, the snakes could have gone after Arthur but one came to me? Was it drawn to my magic? _

Merlin's thoughts were interrupted by a warm touch; he first felt it on his arm where it only appeared for a split second before he was released. He was about to question if he had actually felt anything when he felt the same warmth again but this time on his shoulder where it lingered there longer. This warmth wasn't anything like the fire that had been trying to roast him from the inside out. No… No this one was comforting and somehow familiar. His eyes shifted, under their lids to the spot where the warmth was currently resting. His brow furrowed as he realized he was still seeing nothing. He saw black, if he could even say that he 'saw' it. _Can you see anything if there is no light? _

His face muscles twitched as he tried to force his laden eyelids to move, but they were sealed shut. Taking a deep breath he let it out through his nose, with his eyes still directed at the spot of warmth he concentrated with every last ounce of himself that he could. Pain sparked at first, growing to a dull thrumming as he didn't stop at the first set of warnings. He ignored it, focusing on the area even though it was completely dark.

The longer he strained his eyes the lighter the area seemed to get, going from the purest black to deep charcoal gray to a scene with dark shapes. The fuzziness sharpened to where he could make out what he was seeing. _My eyes are still locked shut, how am I seeing this? Am I dreaming? I hope not because that means I am now dreaming of Arthur...ughhh._

He could make out Prince Arthur's face next to his shoulder, his blue eyes were searching the slave's face, or at least he assumed it was his face he was looking at. A quick shift of the slave's eyes didn't reveal the position of Gaius so he focused back on the Prince. The furrow of his brow spoke of his confusion. Something shifted in Merlin's small window of sight. Tracking the movement he saw that it was Arthur's hand which had been resting on his shoulder, explaining the warmth that was now missing since he retracted it.

He watched curiously as the Prince looked from his hand to the slave's body and back again. Oddly enough, the Prince put his hand back on the slave's shoulder. He seemed to be waiting for some sort reaction but receiving none he pulled away again. Shifting his position, he turned so that he was facing the other way and raised his other hand, he paused seeming unsure. The slave could only watch in helpless suspense as the Prince shrugged and stretched out the hand towards him.

Heat seeped from the Prince, no longer familiar and comforting but hot and painful. Merlin wanted to cringe away, to lean away from the white hot fire. It was a dangerous contradiction hot yet frozen. It burned and yet chilled him to his core. _Stop. Stop. Stop!_ Arthur jerked back before his hand could come in contact with the boy. That was when Merlin saw it. Wrapped around the Princes left wrist was a thin braided leather bracelet. It looped around his wrist twice with a thin silver rectangular stone in the centre, carved with runes that the boy couldn't read.

_When did he get that? From who? _Merlin's eyes zeroed in on the new addition, he could just faintly see the haze of green emanating from it. _Magic! It's enchanted! Wait...that looks familiar, that green color. That's just like what happened with the snakes! Valiant! But...Valiant...Vali-ant...is...he's...dea..d. And the...s...s...snake...s...is...no...are..dead...Dead...Am...I dead?...Can I see...Arthur because...because...I am having some sort of...out..t...of...body...exp...er..ience...? Or...am I ..not...dead yet? Yet? It's coming...death..._

Merlin's mind was becoming more disjointed as his small window of sight began to retract in on itself, shrinking to half the size it started out as. The image blinked,_ Where'd Arthur go? What happened...? Is that Gwen and Morgana? Bethia is there too. Why is she shaking? Did something happen?_

_Gwen wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the younger girl, who was shaking, her arm bouncing slightly against the tremors. She made low shushing noises against the girl's sobs. The servant looked towards her mistress. Morgana watched the girl with bright green eyes and clenched jaw. She looked away from the sobbing girl, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as her mind worked furiously._

_"You said he was saying something to you, what was it?"_

_"Yii ger ahne, or ye grain...I don't know. It didn't make sense to me. I-I just wanted him to stop."_

_"I'm sorry, you're right. Gwen, can you see her back to her rooms, or maybe to a friend?"_

_"Of course, my lady."_

_Morgana watched as the servant shepherded the trembling girl out of her chambers, her mind spinning with the word uttered by the perverse King. _

_"Yii er ahne, Ye grain...Iiegraine...Yegraine...Ygraine? No, why would he say her name? Ygraine, Arthur's Mother...Uther's Wife. Why would he murmur her name?"_

The edges of Merlin's vision again blurred and receded as image faded away. His mind suddenly spun out of control.

_Severus knew Arthur's Mother, Ygraine. He speaks of her fondly to the Prince. The servant's, Oliver, body was found in a chamber near where her picture hung. Ygraine has blond hair, blue eyes like Arthur. He treats Arthur like he would his own son...King Severus never had any kids with his wife...Severus...Ygraine...Arthur...Gaius said there was some sort of history with Severus' wife being the second choice. The first already betrothed to another...YGRAINE/ARTHUR/SEVERUS...Blond hair, blue eyes it's always girls with blond hair and blue eyes! Always! His wide has dark hair and dark eyes. Arthur! _

The connection was there, Merlin could almost see the strings that were running from Arthur, Severus, Ygraine, and Uther, they were right there at his fingertips but for some reason they seemed to tangle themselves as he tried to connect them. Instead of form a tapestry of truth, it fell into a ball of useless yarn. Desperately he grasped at the ends, trying to get them to connect.

_Arthur...the bracelet..._

"I must take my leave for now, Gaius. Will you let me know if there is any change?"

"Of course Sire. Oh, Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"That bracelet you wear, a gift from your Father?"

"This? Oh, no. In fact, King Severus gave it to me himself. A present for my coronation."

_Bracelet...a present from the King?! No, no, no something is wrong. Wrong. Wrong wrong. Arthur! Don't go! Please! Move, you stupid legs. MOVE!_

Merlin struggled against himself, furiously mentally ordering his body to obey him. He heard the click of the door shutting, sealing Arthur from the slave who was trying so desperately to save him. The slave could feel himself surfacing ever so slowly from whatever fog seemed to engulf his mind. It was as if he was slowly, ever so slowly rising from the bottom of a lake. He could see the light reflecting off of the surface of the water high above him, but he couldn't reach it, not yet.

The higher he rose in the water the lighter his limbs felt. The light grew brighter and brighter. If he could raise his arm, he might have been able to break the surface; as it was he seemed to hover just below the breakline. He could hear the wizened man as he shuffled about his room, moving glass beakers and tomes. He could hear him cough every once in a while, hear the scratching as he moved several scrolls of parchment.

He could hear him, but he couldn't see him, he wasn't there yet. _Almost. Almost_, he told himself. _Just a little bit longer. Please hurry. Please! Gaius! Help me! _

"That's it! I found it. Yes, with this... Even the King will have to see reason."

At the same moment Merlin was able to break through the surface, his eyes cracked open and he groaned. He knew he must have made an audible sound because he heard the furry of movement as Gaius hastily moved the scrolls from sight before approaching his bedside.

"Merlin, can you hear me?"

The slave felt the old physician's hand as it settled on his brow, he wished he felt some sort of comfort from it but at that moment he only knew agitation. He turned his head, causing the hand to withdraw quickly; his fingers twitched, slowly obeying his thoughts. Merlin felt his world tip as he rolled off of the cot and hit the floor with a jarring thud. The impact caused his mind to snap into the present. Muscles trembling, he rose to his feet, swaying as he did so. His hand shot out, grasping the shoulder of the physician to steady himself before he let go.

_Arthur...Ygraine...the King._

Weakly, Merlin staggered away from the old man and towards the door, ignoring the protests with regards to his health. Sweat rolled freely down his face as he struggled to open the door, his legs trembling beneath him, barely holding him up. He grunted with effort but no progress, he jerked back when an aged hand entered his line of sight.

"Merlin, please see reason, you are too ill to be moving around. You need to rest."

The slave grunted his refusal, still pushing on the door.

"Please...I-I-I _need _to go. _A-Arthur..._"

The hand shifted to the boy's shoulder and he tensed, bracing himself for a protest. Gently it moved him off to the side and proceeded to open the door by _pulling _it open. Merlin flushed in embarrassment, but with his cheeks already flushed it was as noticeable as it should have been. He allowed a weak grin to surface on his face as he brushed by the older man and nearly fell down the stairs. Wind-milling his arms, he was able to reorient himself just in the nick of time to both their reliefs.

_Why isn't he stopping me? Does this mean he isn't part of this?_ The slave allowed a small buoy of hope to bob within him. Keeping a hand against the wall, he made his way down to the feast hall one step at a time. He passed no one in the corridors; they were completely silent, dead silent. He saw no guards lingering in the hallway, no servants hurrying to finish the last of their chores, no knights on their way to the feast.

The silence felt oppressive, heavy, as if it were weighing him down. He lifted a hand to wipe his forehead. It barely made it to the right height and shook fiercely at the effort. He kept one hand on the wall, leaning against it as much as he was able, sometimes having to pause for several long moments before he was able to continue. The trip took him three times as long as it would on a normal day and it was time he didn't feel he had.

He spied the closed doors and he sped up, dismissing the fact that he should have seen or heard someone-anyone by now. Lifting a hand to the door, he pushed with all of his might. Nothing. It didn't budge. Frowning, he tried to think if he was just messing it up again, so he tried to pull on the handles. Nothing. He raised a fist and through it at the door as hard as his strength would allow. He _bounced _off of it. The force sent the slave crashing unceremoniously to the ground, he had to wait a moment to catch his breath.

_That was magic. It has to be. I need to get in there, Arthur is in danger. _Grimacing at the pain that flared through his joints, he laid a hand on the door and tried to _feel _the magic. His hand met with the resistance. It flared green, writhing under contact. Merlin grunted, pushing back, he felt a tingle starting in his chest. It sparked and jumped through his body, surging down his arm and into his hand with gold electricity jumping back and forth between his hand and the door. Gold and green warred one with another, clashing, screeching, vying for dominance.

_Arthur...!_

Merlin shifted his hand so instead of lying flat, it was perpendicular to the door, his middle fingertip in contact with the wood. He pushed against it, his hand collapsing to his middle knuckle row. He wavered there, his whole body trembling at the exertion. He screamed his eyes wide, flaring gold just as hand curled into a complete fist, his knuckles crashing against the door.

The door blew apart. The oak disintegrated into tiny splinters of wood creating an explosion that blew inward. Thick plumes of dust caked the inside, choking the slave as he wheezed, his hand waving away the powder from around him. His golden eyes reflected off the bits of metal also scattered amongst the debris, he had to blink rapidly to get them to return to azure color. When the dust finally started to settle, he coughed as he tried to gasp. The hall was littered with bodies. Men, women, knights and servants were all strewn about like dolls that had been tossed away by uninterested children.

Falling to his knees when his strength failed him, the boy crawled forward his hand seeking the throat of the nearest body. This one happened to be a servant of Camelot, he felt for his pulse. Frowning, he shifted his fingers a little and sighed as he finally found the faint thrumming of a beat. Moving further down, he randomly felt for several others, each time he was relieved to find that they all seemed to be in some sort of magically induced sleep.

Crawling towards the main table, he searched the fallen bodies for Prince Arthur. He knew instantly that he was not present, neither was King Severus. A groan brought his attention to Camelot's King, who was crumpled on the ground. Moving towards him, Merlin gasped, the King shifted causing his cape to shift revealing a red stain that wasn't supposed to be there. Instantly the slave turned Uther over, his hands covering the hole in his stomach.

Merlin tried to ignore the sticky feeling of the King's warm blood seeping from underneath. The King's breath came out in rasps, mumbling incoherently. _Come on, come on..._Merlin kept his face turned out as he willed his magic to come forth. Gold flickered in his eyes and the slave felt some warmth leave him and trickle down into the King. When he felt the last of the sparks fizzle out, he removed his hands. Blood no longer flowed freely from it. The wound was still fairly fresh but he was no longer in immediate danger.

"Sire, where is Arthur? Arthur, where is he?!"

"A-Arth-u-ur...Arth-ur...N-o, nno...my so-on..._mine..._"

When Uther kept repeating the same thing over and over again, Merlin knew he'd get nothing further. Grasping the folds of the cape, the slave bunched it into a ball and held it over the wound, laying the King's hands on top of it to keep pressure until help could come. Spinning on his heel, Merlin lurched back towards the door.

Knowing that they didn't go down the hall he just came from, the slave continued down a new stoneway. _They must be long gone by now. I'm too late. I was too slow-too late. _He stopped walking, despair washing over him as he slid to his knees on the cold stone floor. Hunching in on himself, he braced himself up on his hands and knees. He tried not to think of the Prince who had treated him differently; as a person, and not a piece of property. He tried not to think of the man who stood up for Gwen against the King, a knight who Sam the Squire admired.

_"I hope that when the time comes you are able to find that same strength to fight for what you believe in."_

Merlin gasped, his head snapping up as his eyes searched the area around him. _Wha-? That was Arthur. I heard him. But, that's not possible...? _

_"...something worth risking even your own life to protect..."_

_I don't understand, why am I hearing him? _

_"To protect."_

An image of Freya's sweet face flashed in his mind's eye. Merlin groaned at the pain that accompanied it, the regret that he wasn't able to do something to help her, to save her.

_"...Risking your own life..."_

_I would have given anything to save you Freya. Anything. But Freya's gone. And so is Arthur. I failed him. _

Merlin looked down at his clenched fists, resting on the smooth floor. He watched as liquid rained down splashing off of his hands, puddling on the stone. He watched as it hit the ground, glowed gold then seemed to absorb into it. Again and his tears spilled to the floor and again they seeped into the stone. Amazed, Merlin let one hand trail over the place where it was absorbed, he assumed it would feel cold like everywhere else but it didn't. It was _warm._

Gold sparked where his body came in contact, sending small jolts of warmth into him, each little bit strengthening him. _Why now? After it's too late? _ A blue glow caught the slave's eye. Looking up he saw a sphere hanging in the air in front of him, it bobbed and weaved backwards down the hallway. Moving slightly, Merlin watched as the ball of light matched his movements, staying the same distance away from him at all times. It drew him farther down the hall.

_Could it be...? It's not too late?_ Hope rose within the boy and he scrambled to his feet, swaying slightly. He reached his hand out to steady himself against the wall and cried out in amazement as gold sparks erupted under his contact with the stone. His fingertips buzzed with energy and he didn't have to try so hard to stay upright anymore. Determination lit anew as he curled his hand into a fist, banging it against the wall before he set off at a run.

He followed the shining orb, ignoring the way gold leapt with each contact of his foot against the stone and the energy that flowed into him. His arms pumped furiously as he fought to keep pace with the rapidly increasing distance between him and the sphere. It always seemed to slow down ever so slightly if it passed from his line of sight until he could see it again, and for that he was grateful. Merlin sped down the long hallways, twisting and turning. He dashed down the steps and into the courtyard where he could vaguely make out the figures of three people.

Veering off to the side, he was disappointed when the orb faded into the night sky, leaving him alone to face the three. The figures were moving around to the side of the castle, out of sight if any sentries should pass by but they were conspicuously absent. He could hear the faint whinnies of horses. _They're making their escape. They'll leave with Arthur. _The slave lengthened his strides, coming upon the trio quickly. They had entered a thicket of trees and shrubbery and Merlin was having a hard time keeping them in sight even though he gaining on them.

_"A life isn't worth living if you don't have something to cherish, something worth risking even your own life to protect…" _

_I don't have a choice. _Merlin skidded to a stop, going down on one knee as he slammed his hand down. His eyes flashed gold as the ground heeded his call. Birds fell silent as their perches started to shake beneath them. He heard the horses, rearing in fright, their cries mingling with two persons. Fainting snapping of leather reached his ears as the horses pulled free, despite the orders of one of the men.

Figuring them to be aptly distracted, Merlin was back on his feet, crashing through the undergrowth. They came into view. He saw his Master helping up Prince Arthur, who moved with a strange jerkiness that the slave had never witnessed, he saw another shadow of a person behind them but mostly out of sight.

"_You!_"

The slave winced at the anger he heard in his voice, he winced at the fire that seemed to burn his neck. Gasping, his hands frantically tore at his black neckerchief, ripping it off in his haste. Merlin hissed as he tried to finger the circlet around his neck, but jerked back as it burned his hand.

_"How dare you! _How were you-? No matter. Your use is over."

King Severus kept one hand around Arthur's wrist, and the other plunged under his shirt to retrieve a leather strip that had some sort of metal pendant hanging from it. Grasping the pendant, he murmured something under his breath, causing Merlin to tense. He looked around, waiting for some sort of attack. He was caught by surprise when his knees buckled underneath him sending him crashing to the ground, his limbs devoid of strength.

He felt a strange sensation, like being warmed and chilled at the same time. Each point of contact with the ground crackled with warmth, but it moved through him, traveling up his body until it reached his neck, which felt as if it he was wearing something dipped in ice.

_It-it's absorbing my magic, every time I draw a little bit of energy, it sucks it up._

With painstaking effort, the slave angled his head to look over at his Master, who in turn was watching Arthur. He shifted to watch the Prince as well. _His eyes._ Prince Arthur's normal cobalt blue eyes were flickering, changing colors even as Merlin watched. They flickered a golden green before darkening to a darkening night sky. His face muscles would twitch whenever they were normal and slacken when they were dark. Merlin watched the shifting for a few seconds before his eyes caught sight of the bracelet on his wrist. It was also flickering. The colder Merlin felt, the brighter the bracelet glowed, and the longer the Prince's eyes stayed dark.

"That's right, Son. It's Ok. I'm here."

Merlin nearly fainted at the King's words. _His son? Arthur is his son? Wha-? That...but Uther? _He looked from the King to the Prince, his mind whirling. _He looks like Ygraine and Uther. I don't understand._

"We don't have time for this. Take care of him."

"With pleasure."

Merlin jerked, he recognized that voice and it confused him. From behind the King stalked his manservant, Draco. The slave wasn't given time to ponder why the King would bring a servant into this. Draco stood above Merlin, his eyes ablaze with delight. The servant began muttering words barely loud enough for the slave to hear. He didn't need to. Fire blazed around his neck at the blonde servant's whispers. Screams rent from the downed slave, he was trapped in a haze of pain, unable to move to relieve his suffering.

"Why won't you just _die?_"

The comment went in one ear and out the other, so all consuming was his pain. He was gasping like a fish out of water when it finally relented.

"Ju-ust that luck-y, I guess."

"Quit stalling and get it over with. We don't have time for you to play around; I want to get my son home."

"With pleasure. I have been itching for this day since you arrived. I am going to enjoy this."

With deliberate steps, the servant approached, kneeling down. The young man's eyes sparkled with dark anticipation, he wrapped his hands around the thin neck of the slave and began to squeeze.

"You have been an obstacle since the moment you arrived, taking _my _place at the King's side. _Mine. _I was his favorite, I was to be by his side, _always. _Until you weaseled your way in. How does it feel, to have your life slip through your fingers? Hurts doesn't it?"

"Ughh," Merlin croaked, his eye bulging. His hands managed to work their way up to grasp the wrists, weakly trying to break Draco's hold.

"Every attempt I made and somehow you still managed to escape. The stairs, the horse, the ambush, the assassins..._How?_ I don't know how but your luck ends here and now."

_Those attempts weren't for Arthur, they were for me? I was the target the whole time. I brought the danger to the Prince, each time._

"WHAT?! You _fool_, you nearly ruined everything!"

Merlin gasped as the hands broke free from his neck, he turned on his side, coughing frantically. He could blearily make out the King towering over his servant, his voice thundering in his ears, berating the boy for nearly messing up his plans.

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry!"

"Without _him_, Arthur would never be mine. You almost cost me _my son._ You are lucky you still have some worth to me otherwise _you'd_ be replaced. Finish it. Arthur is to be mine. Drain the boy and finish the ritual."

_Ritual? Drain? Is that why I have been so weak? Of course! The necklet, it binds me to the King but it wasn't just a one way connection. He could control me, and now he's been draining my magic. That's why I have been so tired. So stupid. Move Merlin, move before he finishes it. MOVE! _

Rolling to his knees, the slave tried to scramble away but his legs and mind weren't cooperating. He heard words of an unknown language spoken and felt the familiar lethargy settle over him, pulling him down, attempting to drown him in a sea of soothing darkness. He clawed and thrashed his way to the surface. He felt the world dissolve, leaving just him and the Draco facing off. His mind's eye saw thick spiny vines extending from Draco to snare Merlin's body, pinning him down.

_It was Draco the whole time. _

_"A life isn't worth living if you don't have anyone to protect..."_

_Arthur. _Merlin's eyes snapped open, gold flaring to life, a roar built in his throat and he let it thunder from his throat. Wind tugged at the leaves, shrugs and tree branches rustling it furiously and without ceasing. Draco cried out as he threw out a hand, attempting to create a barrier of protect. A soft glow of green encased the boy in a half bubble, wavering against the onslaught before it shattered like glass that had a rock thrown threw it with considerable force.

The slave raised one hand, bending his middle finger under his thumb and released his finger, flicking a beam of energy that sent the servant hurtling backwards into the brush. In the split second before the boy's body flew in the air, Merlin saw a pendant fly from beneath his shirt. He clenched his fist; the leather strip snapped free from the boy's neck and soared into his hand.

He could feel power thrumming through the pendant, magic was infused with the boy's signature and it made Merlin's skin crawl. Grimacing against the sickening feeling of the boy's perverse magic, he tried to figure out what the connection was and how to break it but his concentration was broken by the frenzied yells of the King. Altering his attention to his Master, he blinked tiredly just as he felt the heavy weight of King Severus barreled into him.

"Your fault! You! He is my son. _MINE! _You can't take him away from me. _My boy_. Mine, mine, _mine_."

The slave tried to draw breath but the weight was crushing him. He could feel his face turning red, his throat and lungs burning for a second time in only a short period of time. He was so tired of the fighting, so tired of the pain but he couldn't let go. He could let another person down, not because of him. He didn't want to fail again. Merlin's hand scrambled along the dirt, trying to grasp anything he could; when he felt his hand full of debris he chucked it into the face of the King who cried out at the hit to his face, causing his eyes to burn.

The slave tried to use that time to buck him off, but the weight was too much for him, and he could wiggle in futile. A low growl resonated just above his ear, mixing with the soft _shing_ as a blade was pulled from its sheath. Fear griped Merlin as he continued to struggle, _No no no nonononononononono._

He brought his hand up, the one with the leather strap dangling from it, just as the blade descended upon him. The blade connected with the stone pendant, power crackled through the air sending bolts of pain through Merlin's body. His screams were joined by the cries of King Severus as he too felt the shockwave. His weight lifted from the slave, as Merlin was pressed into the ground while the King was sent hurtling away, crashing into the stock still form of Arthur, who hadn't moved during the entire exchange.

Dust spewed into the air, creating a kind of smoke screen between the pair. The slave coughed weakly, his body heavy from exhaustion. So tired was he that he could barely move his head as he tried to determine Arthur's health. His vision spun, all he could see was a swirling mass of browns and greens, twisting, spinning rolling. He shut his eyes, begging his stomach to settle down.

His back arched off the ground, bolts of pain danced around his neck, burning hotter and hotter. His eyes flew open, blue and sightless. He was staring at the starry night sky without seeing it. New star exploded in his vision as his mind was bombarded with pain. Too much pain. He could feel himself slipping away, he could see the darkness encroaching on his mind. He faintly became aware of his own tortured screams, echoing throughout the forest, never ending.

Then it was gone. No screaming. No Pain. It was just silent. Blissfully silent. He heard something, maybe it was there all along but it only registered now. He heard a familiar voice. It was calling out to him. It was joined by another, _His Master_, he was shouting too. Everyone seemed to be shouting, and yet Merlin, he just wanted it to stop. He just wanted it to fade like he was and just be quiet. Fate wasn't so kind. He didn't fade, he just stayed at the surface, sometimes dipping below and other times floating, bobbing on top only to slide under. But there was always something that just wouldn't let him be, something that dragged him back from oblivion and Merlin wished it would stop.

He was sick of the pain, sick of the worry, he was just sick...

AN: OK, that seriously kicked my butt. Sooooooo, what did you think? Loved it, hated it? Completely confused by it? Think you know what it means? Mwahahhaahaha just wait for the next chapter. Every chapter going forth (what maybe 2 left?) will have even more reveals until it all makes sense. You can thank DairyMilk123 for this update, her encouragement helps me brave posting this chapter.

((if you've never reviewed before, i would be ever so grateful to hear from yoor even if it was just a smiling face to know that you are still enjoying this. Love y'all!))


	21. Chapter 19

AN:/ Sorry, I was editing something and deleted this by mistake...-,-"

Chapter 19

_Did I blackout? _Merlin groaned, his mind sluggish turning over the events of the last few moments. Knowing that he wouldn't be getting relief any time soon, he focused instead on the present, where the King was and what Arthur's position was. His entire body throbbed, threatening to distract him from his objective, _Find Prince Arthur. Last thing I remember...I remember...the King, a dagger...the pendant. He hit the pendant and it blew him backwards...into Arthur! _

The slave forced his eyelids back and found himself staring up into starry night sky. Despite his body's protest, he managed to push himself up on his forearms and search the surrounding area for Arthur. It took him a second to register the dark blobs against the even darker foliage.

"Arthur!"

One of the figures reacted, jerking away from the other, approaching the slave's inert, supine form. As the figure stepped from beneath the shadow of a large oak tree and into the moonlight, Merlin scrambled to get to his feet. His hands scrapping at the dirt, boots trying to gain traction but failing. His muscles just wouldn't cooperate. His eyes darted to the still form of Prince Arthur, he was sitting in the same position as he had been.

The glint of moonlight off of a blade alerted the boy to the fact that the King had regained possession of his dagger. Merlin willed his body to move and was rewarded with a reaction. Wobbling to his knees, he kept one hand braced on the ground and held the other in front of him, as if warding the advancing King off, to which the King paid no attention. _I need to get Arthur away from here. The pendant! If I can break the link between the King and Arthur, he can get away. The pendant! Where did it go? _

The slave glanced down to the hand that was touching the ground. He spied the leather strap but the pendant was not attached, it had snapped off from the force of the explosion. Merlin kept an eye on the King, who was still a good five yards away, as his hand felt along the dirt from the missing pendant. His hand scraped across grass, roots, leaves and twigs, but he came up empty. Risking a glance down, he squinted and used both hands to further search.

The King sensed what the slave had been looking for. Rage fuelled his charge, a war cry ripping from his throat, as he raised the dagger in preparation of a strike. Ignoring the pain from tiny of little scratches on his hands, Merlin looked up just as the thrust of the dagger down at him. He let himself go limp while turning at the same time, causing his body to roll out of the way. He struggled to his feet, but in his haste he slipped falling face first back to the ground. He could hear the King growl in frustration as he spun around, once more aiming for the slave.

Merlin rolled onto his back, wiggling backwards, trying to put any amount of distance he could between them. His back protested when he hit a particular sharp root, but he ignored it in favor of kicking out with his leg, tripping the King. The giant of a man howled in pain as the boy's foot connected solidly with his leg, causing him to collapse to one knee. The King launched himself at the boy, knocking the wind from his lungs as he aimed the dagger at the slave's chest.

Merlin instinctively grabbed his wrist, halting the progress of the blade. It hovered only a few inches from his chest. His face turned red at the effort and his arms trembled, slowly giving way to the King's superior strength and stamina. The boy wriggled, the root digging into his back fighting for his attention. The boy managed to worm one leg bent to his chest and kicked out knocking the King backwards. Seizing the moment, he continued to kick out, catching the man in the jaw. The blade fell from stunned fingers, hitting the dirt with a small thud.

Rolling over, his hands found the offending root. _Roots aren't smooth, and cold. It's the pendant! _His hand closed around the missing stone and the boy wasted no time in summoning what little magic he had to the surface. He felt the small sparks start in his chest and work its way down into his hand. Magic roared to life, gold flashing, illuminating the night sky. It shot up into the sky like some sort of giant beacon, Merlin used his arm to shield his eyes from the intense light, lest he become blinded by it.

Had he been able to look up, he would have seen thick, heavy clouds roll in over them. He would have seen the single bolt of blue lightning as it erupted from the ground and met with the pendant in Merlin's hand, then connecting with the energy from the cloud. He didn't see it but he felt it. He felt his hair's stand on end, the air thickening so much so it was almost hard to breathe. He did, however, hear the deafening thunder clap that accompanied it.

His hand opened, lying flat just as the sheer power caused the pendant to explode into dust. A flash of green accompanied its demise and then all light faded away, leaving them all in darkness.

"No! No! no no no no no nononononononononno!"

The slave could hear the King as he stumbled drunkenly back to Prince Arthur, who remained in the same place. Merlin blinked, pulling himself to his feet and staggered over towards the two. He tried to let his eyes adjust but they were having a hard time, making it so he was only able to see blobs. He could just make out the King as he knelt in front of the Prince, his hands resting on Arthur's shoulders. He was speaking softly, desperately.

"It'll be ok, it's ok Arthur. I'll get you home. When we do, I'll show you the training area that I will have built for you. You can train your knights there, and we can spar. I can show you the newest techniques from Ulbein. You'll become the Crowned Prince, with your own Coronation, of course. It will be OK, my boy, Trust your Father."

"...Father?"

Relief nearly knocked Merlin over, Prince Arthur's voice carried over to his position and he sighed.

"Yes, my boy?"

"Wha-?"

"Shhh...sh... just rest, Arthur, son, you've had a hard day. Rest, son."

"So...n? No, no. Not-son..."

"You don't know what you are saying. Of course, you're my son. You're just confused."

King Severus tried to placate the Prince, but Arthur seemed to be regaining his strength and mental facilities as more time passed. When he was able, he wobbled backwards, putting some distance between him and the King. He was blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear his eyes. They flickered over the King's shoulder and caught sight of the slave, who was still resolutely approaching the two, with slow measured steps.

"Merlin? Wha-? What's going on?"

The King tensed at the mention of his wayward slave. He looked over his shoulder at the boy, who froze at the sudden attention. Aware of how close the King was to the Prince, Merlin stopped where he was and swallowed.

"I-It's over Master, your spell is broken. You've failed."

"NO! Arthur is _mine_! You can't stop me."

_"A life isn't worth living if you don't have anyone to protect...""A life isn't worth living if you don't have anyone to protect..."_

"I already did."

Merlin didn't think the King had any sort of magical powers, but at that moment, he started to doubt himself. Light reflected off his eyes, causing them to glow eerily. He saw the King make a movement, unable to discern exactly what it was; he did feel the effects seconds later. His body fell backwards at the force of the hit, sending him crashing onto his back, his hand already reaching up to feel the cold hilt of a blade sticking out of his upper chest.

"MERLIN!"

"Shh, shhh, it's alright. We're safe now, son."

_"Get off_ me. MERLIN!"

"Listen to me, son, _listen_! It's over. We can leave now. It's OK. it's O.K."

"What is _wrong _with you? _Uther _is _my Father_."

"NO! _No! _I _am! ME!"_

Arthur back away from the increasing agitated King, his hand going to his sword and felt the empty space where it should have hung. Gritting his teeth, he glanced over at the place he last saw the boy. He was flat on the ground, barely moving. _Merlin._

"I_ am _your Father." Severus took a step towards the Prince, his hands outstretched as if he wanted to embrace him.

"I AM. ME! Not that tyrant. _ME!_ I loved her! She should have been _my_ wife, not _his._ You-you should have been mine! You still could be. Come with me Arthur."

The Prince didn't know how to respond, his face clearly portrayed what he was thinking. His brows were crinkled, eyes squinting, mouth screwed up in bewilderment.

"Look, I don't know what's going on here, but Sire, please think this through. You _know_ my Father. You know that I am Uther and Ygraine's son. My coronation was tonight-"

The Prince broke off his words as the King bristled at the mention of his Mother's name.

"Ygraine...my Ygraine..."

Taking another few steps backwards, Arthur's foot found a long branch. With a fancy hook of his foot, he kicked the branch up to the right height that his hand grasped it and he brought it defensively in front of him. The King's face transformed into a snarl as he unsheathed his own sword from his side and charged at the Prince.

"_Uther's_ son."

Arthur barely had time to register the spat aimed at him as he parried blow after blow by the King, his branch barely able to withstand the strikes. He felt clumsy with the unbalanced piece of wood in his hand, and it almost cost him. Arthur caught the King's sword with his branch causing the blade to embed itself in wood. The Prince kicked out, sending the King backwards, the force ripping the branch from his hand. The air exploded from Severus' lungs. Arthur took advantage of the moment to snag the fallen sword from the ground, brandishing it down at the King.

"Now...Merlin? _MERlin?!"_

Arthur's divided attention gave the King the chance to swipe the Prince's feet beneath him. Stars exploded in his vision as his head slammed into the ground. A bellow of anger warned the Prince of the King's own attack. Shaking his head, his vision cleared just in time to see the flash of a small blade arcing towards his throat. He caught the hands before they hit their mark. Gritting his teeth, Arthur struggled against the weight of the King. Releasing one hand, he punched the King, wrenching the blade away at the same time.

The blade slid all too easily into the stomach of the King. He froze, his body going slack, allowing Arthur to effortlessly push him away.

The King gasped, his body sinking to the ground.

"No-o, my boy. Ar-thur...N-no." His voice came out soft, broken. Weakly he raised his hand as if trying to beckon the Prince back to his side. His eyes were wet with unshed tears as he watched the Prince turn his back on him, walking away from him and to the side of the slave. _W-we can be together...finally. Arthur! Ygraine, my Ygraine, our son, he rejects me, his Father. Why? Why do you keep leaving me? YGRAINE?!_

The Prince ignored the fallen King. Stumbling over exhausted his feet, he made his way to the still body of the slave, several yards away. Dropping to his knees, his hands turned the slave's face towards him. His eyes were closed, but his chest was moving up and down ever so slightly.

"Merlin..._Merlin!"_

The slave groaned, Arthur hung his head as relief he felt a weight lift of his shoulders. The relief was short lived as the boy's eyes flew open, obnubilated with pain, wide and unseeing. Worse than the screams came his whimpers. A single tear escaped out the side of Merlin's eye. Frantically, Arthur tried to find the source of the boy's pain, the wound on his shoulder wasn't deep enough to be cause for immediate concern. His fingers brushed against the metal collar, and he jerked back in surprise and pain. _Hot! Ow._ _Why is he wearing such a thing? I never saw him wearing this before...Wait, where's that black neckerchief? Was that hidden beneath it the whole time? _

_Why do they all leave me? My son, he too, has turned his back on me. Why? For the slave? For that worthless piece of trash?_

A faint, harsh muttering floated its way towards the Prince's ears.

"Curse that boy! He turned my Arthur against me. My love, don't worry, I'll make him pay. He will suffer for his disloyalty and then, my sweet Ygraine, I'll bring my son home with me. We can be a family. My boy. Sweet child, just he takes after you; I can see you in him. _Our _boy."

Arthur turned back to the King, blood was starting to leak out of the side of the royal's mouth. His hand was gripping something so tightly that his knuckles were white with effort.

"He _will _pay. Oh, yes he will pay. Then my boy, my baby, our child will be where he belongs...With Uther dead, he will be ours. The boy is almost dead too. The saboteur."

_Dead? My Father? Merlin? _The Prince was on his feet in an instant, his hand on the hilt of the blade even as Merlin's whimpers grew louder. He was at the King's side, his eyes blazing. "Stop it. Leave Merlin alone."

The King laughed, a gurgling sound, promising an early demise.

"MY boy. Mine mine mine mine mine."

King Severus' eyes were rolling in their sockets as he whispered one last word. Arthur didn't understand what it was he was saying but he didn't need to as Merlin answered the King with horrific screams. Without hesitation, the Prince pierced the King's heart in one smooth motion of his sword. Silence met his ears. It was as if sound itself died with the King, Merlin was silent, the forest was silent and Arthur couldn't even hear his own breathing.

Leaving the sword embedded in the King, he was back at the slave's side, his hands seeking reassurance that the boy hadn't died as Severus had promised. _I can't find it. Come on Merlin, not now. Not you too._ He must have been deaf because he didn't hear the approach of men, he didn't hear his own voice as he started yelling for Merlin to get up. He fought the hands that gripped his shoulder, trying to help him. He struggled, thinking that somehow the King had survived and was trying to separate them again.

"Sire! My lord-_Arthur!"_

The Prince ceased his struggling as the voice reached him, he knew the voice, he trusted this voice.

"Sir Leon?" He gasped, turning around the face the curly haired knight.

The Knight nodded his head, his eyes searching the Prince's before combing the rest of his body, seeking any sign of serious injury.

"Merlin-he's hurt-or dead-the King-my Father-!"

"Your Father lives. He is safe. He seems to have gotten some help in time. Gaius is currently with him. He is beset with worry for you, my lord."

Arthur sagged, as the words penetrated his foggy mind._ My Father lives._

"Merlin-!"

"He lives, Sire. The boy is alive, but I fear he is gravely injured. We must get him back to Gaius immediately."

Arthur turned to the other Knights that had accompanied Sir Leon, Sir Owaine was kneeling beside him, his fingers still resting at Merlin's neck. They slid to finger the necklet around the boy's throat, turning it around, seeking a seam but there was no discernible hinge, latch or break in the flawless metal.

"That _thing_ is magic, it was torturing him. The King, Severus, was using magic, we must get that off of him."

Sir Owaine again looked at the metal and tugged in various places but to no avail. Arthur reached forward to try, when his hand wearing the bracelet came in contact, the boy's body jerked spastically. The Prince jerked backwards, looking down in horror at the bracelet. Frantically he tried to use his other hand to remove it, but it too could not be undone. He ignored the spike of pain with each try until Sir Leon grabbed his wrists when he saw that it had negative consequences for Arthur.

"Sire, perhaps we should consult with Gaius to whether these are indeed made of magic, he may know of a way to remove these without causing pain to you and the boy."

As much as Arthur wanted to protest, he knew that the advice was sound, so he nodded his consent. He stood on shaky legs with Sir Leon next to him should he need the assistance but also understanding that the Prince would not accept it unless he were on the edge; so he stood by, faithfully waiting for his need.

"We need to hurry," Arthur commanded, waiting for the other Knight to lift Merlin, wishing he didn't feel as useless as he did at that moment. He avoided looking at the body of the King as still more Knights grabbed the body and made ready to bring it back with them as well. The trek back was a rather slow one for such a short distance; Arthur knew that it was in part because of him. He had to pause multiple times against a tree, trying to regain his breath, even as he felt his strength leave him. After a period of time, Sir Leon slung the Prince's arm over his shoulder and shifted his weight onto him.

Arthur looked over at him through heavily laden eyes, to which the Knight responded with, "I apologize my lord, I find myself growing weak with the distance; if thou wouldst allow me to lean on thee for the duration of the journey, I'd be most grateful."

The Prince snorted at the Knight's explanation, but grateful for his help and weak cover up of his own failings. A few more yards later, another Knight came on the Prince's other side and braced Arthur up, with his own apologetic smile, "If thou wouldst forgive me, Sire, I too, find myself faint from this _long and arduous _quest."

"Sir Leon and Kay, I find myself disappointed with your distinct lack of stamina; it is with great regret that I have been forced to re-think our training regimens'. I shall endeavor to be more strict in the future; lest I have my Knights _fainting_ while on patrol. It 'ould besmirch my n'me to c it 'o."

The Prince's speech started to slur as he relied more heavily on the knights with each passing second, until his body was limp between the two. The Knight glanced between them, fond smiles on their faces. They hitched the Prince up higher and increased their pace, now that they didn't have to slow down for him.

-mo(-,-)0m-

A soft rocking motion was pleasantly lulling Merlin into a contented sleep, he could feel his body moving like he was floating on top of water. He could hear an odd echo mixed with a hallow sound, as if his ears were physically filled with water. He ignored the buzzing, choosing instead to just relish in the lukewarm water, drifting in the great dark expanse. He tilted his head up, as a whisper of wind brushed his bangs on his forehead back, letting them fall back into place before teasing them back again. He enjoyed the touch with his eyes closed.

He enjoyed the smooth, easy motions, content to just let himself be. He bobbed, he floated, and he didn't worry. The muscles in his face twitched as a small drop of moisture splashed onto his face. Irritated he wiped it off, settling back into his peaceful state of existence, and just drifted. Another twitch followed a second drop of water. Then another, and another, and still another. A deluge of water poured down on him, causing him to become unstable and start to sink.

He switched to treading water, his legs constantly moving, churning beneath the water. The water he was treading in was warm, but the water raining down upon him was ice cold, each drop felt like the stab of a needle. He silently cried out as the pain became too much. He pushed himself under the water, his arms waving in an effort to keep him below the surface and away from the sharp rain. _Ow! Ow! Owowowoowow!_

The rain penetrated the water like a sharply released arrow, drilling through the water in hopes of finding its target. Merlin tried to push himself deeper under water to avoid the

strange rain. _It's so dark. Am I blind? _Merlin stopped his struggling for the moment, running his hands over his face. He found no strange scarring or wounds, but he did realize that his eyes were closed; which explained why he was unable to see. _Am I still sinking? How am I still sinking? Why can't I open my eyes?_

The pressure from the depth of water was squeezing him, bubbles exploding from his mouth as he gasped in surprise. Quickly, he shut his mouth to avoid taking in any more water, he kicked his feet to return back to the surface now that the rain didn't seem to be coming down anymore. He kicked his legs wildly, he kicked and kicked but no matter how hard he kicked the pressure didn't relent from the water depth. He tried to open his eyes to place himself but they resisted his efforts.

His lungs burned, starving, his legs slowed down as he lost energy fast. His hands clawed at the water, fingers curled. _Why can't I ascend?! Air...I ne-ed-a-ir. _His attempts got weaker and weaker, his legs barely moving, his hands stilling, his mind slowing. The pressure on his ears increased as he continued to sink. In a last ditch effort he stretched forth his right hand towards the distant surface. Towards where he assumed the last rays of hope shone. His hand slowly fell down with the rest of him, down, deeper and deeper towards the darkest reaches of the quiet lake.

Merlin descent stopped, he could feel something attached to his wrist. He felt a tug. Suddenly he was ascending, the pressure slowly easing. He felt lighter, rising towards the surface. It was slow progress, he could feel every inch of the ascent, every small movement. He wondered why he hadn't passed out yet, why he hadn't drowned, he knew he had been under far longer than one could be without repercussions. The water changed, it was softly, lighter.

The next instant, Merlin broke through the surface, his eyes flickering open causing him to squint against the bright lights.

_Wha...? Arthur? The King? Draco? _He felt his body tense in anticipation of a blow, he waited, and waited. When he felt no pain, he blinked to clear his blurry vision, he could make could dark earthy colored shapes. Squinting, the shapes sharpened into bookcases. _Wah-? But...this is Gaius'? Wha' happen'd? _He tried to move but found his body unresponsive, his brow furrowed in consternation. He could feel the scratchy material of a thin wool blanket, wiggling slightly he realized that the blanket was tucked tight beneath him, trapping his limbs in place. Turning his head, he found the second reason he couldn't move. Arthur was sleeping at his side, slumped against the bedside, arms folded beneath his head and on top of one of Merlin's arm.

The next thing the boy realized was that he should be in a lot more pain than he currently was. He could feel a bit of throbbing, a tweak if he moved his shoulders too much but nothing like the pain he had been in, and for that he was extremely grateful. _Gaius must have fixed me up? Does this mean, he wasn't part of it? He was trying to help me all along? Why? Why would he be helping me? If not, then why would he be hiding things from me? Ughhh...How many soft pillows does he have, and yet he decides to use me for one? That's just not fair._

Merlin watched as Arthur's head bounced up a little before coming back to rest on his forearms. Merlin frowned. Again, he jerked his left shoulder up then down, causing Arthur to move with the motion. The Prince, sniffed, turning his head to face Merlin, eyes still closed. Annoyed, the boy shimmied his whole body over, closer to the left side of the bed. The shift caused Arthur's one arm to slip from the bed and dangle over the side. Another few shifts over and it had the desired effect. Arthur fell off the side of the bed and onto the floor with a dull thud.

Merlin smiled at his victory as Arthur yelped at the impact. Scrambling to his feet, the Prince looked around, embarrassed, trying to ascertain if anyone else had witnessed his spectacular fail. His sleepy blue eyes met Merlin's slightly pain clouded eyes.

"Merlin, you're awake!"

"Arthur, you're a prat!"

Arthur frowned at the boy's insolence, "What? Me? Did you do that?"

"Yes, you, and what _are _you talking about?"

Arthur gave up that line of questioning, believing the boy's innocent facade.

"Ah-er-nevermind. So, uh, how are you feeling?"

"Like I tussled with an insane King bent on killing me, but other than that, pretty good considering."

"Ah, yes, well-"

Merlin waited as the Prince's voice trailed off awkwardly. Tilting his head to get a better look at Arthur, he was standing next to the bed, his hands clasped behind his back. Noticing the boy's eyes on him, he coughed into one hand and looked over his shoulder. Merlin tried to do the same but the angle hurt his neck so he resumed just staring at the ceiling.

"Could you-ah-sit down, or something?"

Caught off guard, Arthur blinked down at him, he glanced at the stool he had been sitting in before resuming his seat. Within seconds, the Prince's knee was bouncing agitatedly against the floor.

"So, ah, Mer-uh, can I call you Merlin?"

_I wonder what will happen to me..._The boy got so caught up in his thoughts that Arthur took that as a negative and instead cleared his throat to begin again. He opened his mouth but words failed him, his eyes stared into the curious eyes of the slave, who stared back without flinching. _He didn't used to do that. He wouldn't look me in the eyes before._ As if catching himself, Merlin averted his gaze, choosing to focus on wiggling one arm from out beneath the tight blanket.

Arthur watched his struggles for a moment before he lifted a corner from beneath the cot, allowing the boy to pulling his arm free and rest it on top of the blanket. He tucked the corner back in, focusing completely on the task at hand while Merlin glanced over at him then down to the blanket. The slave's fingers plucked at a small bit of fuzz that was sticking out, longer than the other. He rolled the fuzz between his middle finger and thumb, his eyes becoming fixated on the motion. Arthur too, watched the slave's hand. _Say it. Just tell him._

"He's dead, the King that is. I killed him."

The boy's fingers stilled, he closed them into a fist and brought it closer to his chest drawing with it Arthur's gaze. Knowing that he was just being a coward, the Prince forced his eyes back up to meet the boy's, he nodded in affirmation of what he had just told him. Merlin stared back at the Prince, his gaze unflinching, searching his face. Then as if he was somehow able to confirm it just by staring into his eyes, Merlin's body slumped bonelessly against the bedding. Arthur hadn't realized just how tense the boy had been until that moment.

Merlin's eyes flickered closed and a slow sigh of relief escaped his lips. He didn't move after that. Arthur waited several minutes, thinking that perhaps the boy just need some time to digest this. The boy didn't say anything.

"Did he just fall asleep on me?"

"No. Why are you talking to yourself in the third person?"

"Wha-uh-I'm not. Shut up."

"Well, which is it? Shut up or talk?"

"Merlin-" Arthur trailed off in warning, to which Merlin just smirked to himself, his eyes still closed.

"Wha-what happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"It's kind of...strange. I don't know how to describe it. I remember being at the feast, I remember turning to speak to my Father but things get kind of foggy from there. Something happened, there were screams and I was later told that _he_ had stabbed my Father. Somehow he survived, Gaius said that someone had helped to stop the bleeding and that it saved his life."

The Prince glanced out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin turn his head away from him, eyes opening to mere slits. He continued to watch him as he spoke.

"The next thing I remember, clearly, that is, was being in the forest and _he _was babbling to me, with his hands on my shoulder. Honestly, he was talking nonsense and I was still...woozy. Then, I remember him going after you. Somehow you were able to survive long enough till I could get his sword. We fought. I was able to seriously wound him but then he did something to you, some sort of magic, it heated that metal thing around your neck. You were in pain, and I pierced his heart. He died, and you stopped moving. I-I thought you were dead."

Merlin turned his head towards the Prince, watching as he clasped his hands together tightly, this time Arthur avoided his eyes.

"At some point, the Knights came they brought us back to the Castle where Gaius was waiting. You were in a bad way, even Gaius was fearful for you. It was kind of odd how much it seemed to affect him. He really cared about you. Anyways, I was...indisposed of, so the next few things happened without my knowledge."

Merlin's interest was piqued. He shifted ever so slightly, worming his way backwards, awkwardly trying to brace his pillow up so he wasn't lying flat. Arthur noticed his discomfort and leapt to his feet, eager for something to do with all his excess energy. He helped the boy to sit up more fully before he resumed his seat, one hand tapping against his thigh.

"So, I guess Gwaine was lurking in the forest, albeit illegally, and came upon a servant of Ulbein who was fleeing. He tried to use magic to evade him, but Gwaine is a skilled swordsman if nothing else and was able to knock him out. A patrol that had been sent out came upon them and took custody of the sorcerer. He was placed in the dungeons; he's awaiting trial as my Father is not able to attend for at least another day."

Arthur noted that the slave had gone rigid again,_ no doubt uneasy at the thought of a sorcerer so close._ The Prince caught the boy's eye before he continued, "Don't worry; we have him in magic restraints. He can't use his magic."

Merlin didn't relax, despite the Prince's reassurances. He did look over, however, when Arthur cleared his throat to deliver the next part.

"Ah, your presence will be required at the trial, for your testimony against him. Do you think you'll be able to do that?"

Merlin stared at him blankly. _What...what if Draco reveals about my magic? If he tells them, they'll execute me next. I-I can't do this. I can't face him. I-I-I-. _His thoughts became stuck on that one thought, the idea turning over and over in his mind. His hand fisted into the scratchy material of the blanket, his knuckles turning white from the strength of his clenched fist.

Arthur's eyes darkened with concern, he worried his lip between his teeth, as he witnessed that the boy only seemed to worsen at the thought of facing the one locked in the dungeon. _Perhaps, I can convince my Father to allow his testimony to be given by proxy, provided that he writes the events and bears witness that they are true. Will the Court give any credence to his testimony anyways, what with him being a slave? Maybe he only have to testify. It's really just a formality anyways, with the witnesses from the feast. But none of them saw past the initial stabbing, they were all asleep._

Arthur's fingers plucked at the bracelet still bound to his wrist, the stone dull and without any _unnatural _energy being expelled, as it had been before the servant, Draco, had been placed in the restraining cuffs. He winced at the memory of the phantom pain, he had been unconscious for the most part, but a burning sensation had woken him up briefly. During that time he had heard about a similar reaction coming from the slave. He had _whimpered. _The Prince shuddered, drawing the slave's gaze, he looked from the blanket to the Prince's wrist. Merlin's eyes narrowed at the sight of the braided leather, his previously occupied hand reached for the collar that he found around his neck. He was pleasantly surprised to realize that he felt no heat or coldness emanating from the enchanted metal.

"The Queen should be here by tomorrow. My Father had word sent out with regards to the events of yesterday; she'll be here for the trial. I-I thought you might want to know."

Merlin's fingers stopped exploring the necklet, pausing before they dropped back to the blanket and resumed picking at stray pieces of wool. He didn't comment on the news. Arthur fumbled for something else to say.

"I-uh-spoke with Gaius this morning, since he knew my Father and my Mother, and asked if-if what _he_ said had any truth to it."

Merlin waited for the Prince to continue but he seemed to lose his train of thought, so he prompted him, "What did he say?"

"Ah, um, after the announcement was made concerning their upcoming betrothal Ygraine didn't think it was proper to being in contact with him without my Father present. They quickly lost favor and contact with one another and didn't see each other after that. My Mother never had any contact with him, so, it was a lie. He wasn't my Father."

"Oh."

"My Father loved my Mother, despite that the marriage was not of their choosing."

"That's-I didn't realize-I'm sorry."

"Sorry, what for?"

"You, too, won't get the chance to marry for love. I just wonder how many others there are, that didn't get to marry the person they loved because they were forced into an alliance marriage. How many other people will have to suffer like _he _did? I keep trying to turn it all around in my mind, but no matter how I look at it, I can only conclude that _he _really did care for you, in his own twisted way."

"_He_ almost killed _my Father!_ He put the entire castle to sleep! He _enchanted_ me, forcing me against my will to leave my home and you _pity_ him?!"

"I don't condone what he did by any means, but what about you? What if you were forced to give up the one you loved more than anything and enter into a marriage with another? Watch as the woman you loved, with all your heart, had a child with someone you once considered your friend. Imagine the betrayal you would feel. I imagine that's something of what _he _felt. Don't misunderstand, _he_ let it twist him in unimaginable ways. He did horrible, terrible things to others in an effort to reconcile his feelings, wrongly of course."

The Prince gaped at the slave, his mouth hanging open. He worked it open and close before he closed it with a click. _A marriage alliance...that's my future. A future without love. No. My Father loved my Mother. That I am sure of. But what if it doesn't end that way for me? What if...I marry someone that I don't grow to love. Will that be me? Will I turn out like he did? Abusing power in some sort of recompense for a lost love? Resorting to sorcery?_

Arthur shook his head, silently vowing to himself not to allow himself to become that jaded, maybe even to not marry for anything but love. He felt a little chagrined that he was able to relate to the man on some level. He wanted to hold onto his anger, his rage at the injustice the man had waged against the kingdom he stood to inherit.

"Do you think-?"

The Prince broke off his question, his face incredulous. There lay Merlin, completely oblivious to Arthur, he was asleep._ The nerve he has to fall asleep when I, the Prince, am talking. I should wake him up. _The Prince eyed the boy, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes, the minor scrapes and scratches that adorned his face as a testament to the ordeal he had been subjected to. Snorting softly, the Prince dragged himself to his feet, a grimace flitting over his face as his joints protested moving, he moved to the door to glance back at the slumbering slave.

_What if you were forced to give up the one you loved more than anything and enter into a marriage with another?_

Shaking his head, he tried to block out the boy's logical argument, reaching his hand out to open the door. He jerked back as it nearly hit him. Standing in the doorway, arms laden with blankets and linens, was Morgana's maidservant, Guinevere. She stopped abruptly in surprise, the blankets tipping towards the ground. Arthur lunged forward, catching them with reflexes born of years of hard training.

"Prince Arthur!"

"Guinevere."

"Ah, I, um, had just come to bring Gaius some more sheets for Merlin."

Arthur like the way she blushed as she stated the obvious, he made a mental note to make her do so more in the future. Realizing where his mind was taking him, he shifted his hands, "Where would you like these?"

"Oh, no, you don't have to-"

"_Where?_"

Mutely, the servant pointed over in the corner, Arthur did as directed. Then, just as quickly, he relived the girl of her other burdens for good measure before he turned to make his exit. He glanced back briefly, and was rewarded with catching her eye before she realized she had been caught. He dipped his head in acknowledgement before leaving, a smirk on his lips at his victory.

_Watch as the woman you loved, with all your heart, had a child with someone you once considered your friend. _

_That won't happen to me. It won't. What would I do if a close friend betrayed me? If my betrothed forsook our life together for another? If the woman I loved, with all my heart, defiled our love? What would I do? _

He turned to glance once more in direction of Gaius' chambers, his mind buzzing with questions.

_-o(-,-)o-_

A/N: This felt like a natural stopping point, even though I had planned to get through the trial as well...oh well. Just means another extra chapter for you guys! Soooooo, did I answer MOST of your questions? Satisfied? Unsatisfied? Still confused?

Responses to reviews I couldn't PM:

Guest: Thank you! I am glad you are really enjoying this! Sometimes I wonder if it is coming out as well as I had hoped. Thanksssssss.

Sahba: Wow" That is sooooooo cool! I love how Merlin and writing are reaching people on the otherside of the world. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

Viskii: Sorry some of those answers won't be till another chapter but they will be answered have no fear!

IreneG: Glad to see you again! So happy you are still with me! Thanks soooooo much.

Random Person: hello, hello! Glad to see you are with me on this journey. More fun to come, I promise!

AFellowMerlinFan: Were your theories validated? Did it make sense? Any other theories you want to test out with regards to Merlin and the debt?

If I missed anyone it was Not on purpose! I really do try to respond to you!

See you next time.

Mo(-,-)oM

Rehabilitated Sith


	22. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"He looks so much like his Father..."

"Indeed...but I also see his Mother in him..."

Merlin's head turned towards the sound of the two voices, one male and the other female. _Gaius. But who's the other? _He tried to place it but no matter how he furrowed his brow, his mind was too sluggish to connect the voice to a name, or even a face. It did, however, connect to a feeling. The slave remained relaxed, content to just let them talk, their voices washing over him like the gentle tide coming in to shore. As his mind continued to drift, their words became indistinct, just sounds, warm and inviting. His eyes remained closed and he enjoyed the incandescence of their voices, a soft smile turning up the corners of his lips.

He felt a dip in the cot as someone took a seat on the very edge of his bed; their weight was light enough that it didn't jar his injuries. His eyes twitched, startled to feel fingers gently raking through his hair and in the next moment a sigh escaped his lips, his limbs migrating closer to the warm body without a conscious thought. The motion was familiar, soothing, it caressed away any thoughts of his injuries, most of which he assumed were on the mend with exception of the wound to his shoulder.

After a few moments, the motion stopped and the boy felt a profound loss, something significant was gone and he didn't like it. He nuzzled his head over to where he hoped to find the hand again, and for his troubles he heard a sound that was clear as bells. _The woman, she's laughing. _The thought emerged and then it drifted away just as quick, forgotten in the next instance. The hand returned for one more caress before it trailed down his face to cup his cheek, holding it lightly and tenderly with care. He liked this touch. Then once again, it was gone and he felt abandoned.

An almost indiscernible sound begged her to come back, but she didn't hear it. Already she was across the room to exchange a few more words with the other person. Then there was the click of the door, and she was gone. The background noise was once more filled with the familiar clinking of beakers and glass jars as Gaius, the boy identified, continued with his duties. Still content despite the loss of touch, Merlin allowed himself to be pulled back under.

"Gaius, what do we do? Do I wake him up or should I allow him to rest some more. We don't have that much time left. The Queen has already arrived and is getting situated as we speak. My Father will want me present when he relays the events to her before beginning the trial. Look at him, he's been sleeping since yesterday, I can't imagine he'll be up for the rigors of Court. They'll tear him apart."

"I don't think so, my lord. Since most of them were present at the Feast, I think you'll find that they'll be more open to the testimony of the boy. He wasn't present when the King was attacked so they have no grounds to suspect him of anything."

"Do you think they might? I hadn't considered that. He is a member of the Ulbein Household _and_ former servant to the King. He'll be under suspicion as well!"

"I will also be testifying, and I will reflect that Merlin was with me at the time of the attack, as well as him being the only other one not under the spell. The only one who could have saved Uther's life was Merlin, that I am sure of. I do not believe we will have to fear."

The quick steps of the Prince's boots scuffing the floor spoke of his agitation as he paced back and forth somewhere near Merlin's left. The thick blanket of darkness lifted slightly, allowing a crack of light to filter through and the voices to echo around him. His eyes flickered under his eyelids, watching some unseen scene, fingers twitching in response.

Prince Arthur noted the movement, his steps ceasing as he watched the boy carefully for further signs of his pending waking. When the slave's brow deepened, the Prince took a step closer, not listening to the older physician behind him. His hand reached out, as if to wake the boy but he stopped, wondering if that was a good idea. Three persons jumped in surprise when the door to Gaius' chambers crashed against the wall and two other persons entered.

Arthur spun around, his hand already on the hilt of his sword, his body creating a physical barrier for Merlin, who had awakened at the clamor. The boy's eyes were wide, his shoulders hunched in on himself, one hand slightly raised, which he quickly lowered upon seeing the Prince's back to him. A quick dart of his eyes revealed that he was indeed in Gaius' rooms, in the main portion and that Gaius himself was there along with the Prince who had been joined by two guards.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Merlin almost smiled at the Prince's indignation, but he caught himself before he made such a grave error. Blinking, the boy swayed as the blood rushed from his head, causing dark spot to appear in his vision. He grasped for some sort of hold, his hand bracing him up on the bed in time to prevent him from falling backwards against the bed frame. Weathered hands helped to ease him into a more natural sitting position by arranging his pillows, Merlin nodded his thanks to the old physician as he settled back wincing as the skin pulled against his healing wounds.

"My apologies, my lord, but your Father commands the presence of the boy. The trial is about to begin."

Merlin swallowed, his eyes darting towards the guard who had spoken. He hadn't done it in a harsh manner, but the slave still flinched before he demurely lowered his eyes. Arthur turned slightly to the boy. Seeing him awake, he removed his hand from his sword and used it rake it through his hair. Dropping his hand back in place, the Prince turned more fully to the boy, his face painted with regret, briefly looking over to the physician who frowned.

"Merlin, do you need any assistance?"

The boy looked at the Prince, uncomprehendingly. _No! I thought I wouldn't have to testify. Draco, he's going to get me executed if he sees me! I-I can't. _He sat there frozen, his mind a blizzard of fears swirling furiously around, each thought more desperate than the last. Arthur saw the fear written in his eyes, sighing, he turned to Gaius and nodded.

The old physician frowned, "Surely Merlin could do with a written testament to the proceedings? He is not strong enough to face the Court. His wounds need time to heal."

"I'm sorry but my Father has _requested_ his presence, and with his Queen already here, it makes matters difficult for him, as well."

With slow movements, Gaius pulled back the covers to the boy's cot and settled a hand on his shoulder, thrusting him back into reality. The slave flinched at the contact and Arthur mirrored his reaction subconsciously, his hand moving to rub the area beneath the bracelet. Merlin's eyes sought the Prince's out, blue clashing with blue. The slave's hand rubbed his neck briefly as he tried to shake the feeling of doom encroaching on his spirit.

The physician hadn't removed his hand despite the reaction it garnered, instead choosing to leave it there allowing the boy to become accustomed to his touch.

"Merlin?"

The boy refocused on Gaius and the other hand he held out to him. He took it, allowing him to guide him out of bed. He swung his legs over the edge letting them touch the cold floor; he nearly pulled them back up at the shock of it but caught himself in time.

"Arthur can you hand me his socks and boots?"

It took the Prince a moment to spy the pathetic excuse for leather soles in the corner. Grasping them between his three fingers he held them out and watched as the older man and boy struggled to get him in them. Arthur noted that the boy was already in his breeches but was still in need of a shirt. Deciding to help expedite the process, he searched around for a shirt for Merlin. The first one he found was woefully inept for the job, having many holes and tears in it, _Definitely not worthy of Court._

Another minute and the Prince spotted a blue shirt that would work. He tossed it over to the slave. Not prepared for it, the boy didn't make a move to catch it and it landed on his head, dangling off the one side. Arthur chuckled at his good aim, receiving a glare from the boy and an exasperated eyebrow from the Court Physician. It took several long moments for the boy to navigate the shirt over his head with the help of Gaius due to his injuries. The material muffled the gasps of pain the boy let out as the motion again caused his skin to pull uncomfortable at the healing tissue. Arthur twitched at the sound, forcing himself to turn around and instead glare at the guards, whom he blamed for this despite them just being the messengers.

The sound of boots shuffling up behind him alerted Arthur that Merlin was finally presentable. Without a word, the Prince twitched a hand forward and set out for the hall where Court was currently in session. He was gratified to find that the slave had understood him and was trailing behind at a fairly even pace.

Merlin alternated his gaze between the Princes back and the stone floor, willing himself desperately _not _to glance back at the guards that were marching behind him. _Do they still use the pyre to execute sorcerers? I hear that you are more likely to die from the smoke than the fire, I hope that is true. I wouldn't want to burn. It hurts. Maybe they still employ the gallows? A slight free-fall and then it's over. I heard that sometimes the fall won't make a clean break and people have dangled until they die of suffocation. _His hand wandered to his neck, rubbing at the skin underneath the collar. His fingers met the soft linen of Gaius' wrappings, he scratched at the edge causing it to lift slightly.

"Leave it alone Merlin."

The slave's fingers dropped in surprise, and he lifted his eyes toward the Prince but his back was still to him.

_"Wha-? _How did you know...?"

"I can _hear_ you. I'm surprised the _whole_ castle can't hear you."

His surprise turned to indignation, with a burst of courage, knowing that the guards couldn't see his face and Arthur's back was to him, the slave stuck out his tongue. He retracted it almost as quickly as the Prince halted, and turned towards him.

"Did you just stick your tongue out at me?"

"Ah-no?"

"Was that a question or a statement?"

"Depends on what you would do with the answer."

Arthur smirked at his response, liking the little bit of spit fire that slave seemed to normally keep a tight rein on. _That's more like it._ Not wanting to let him off too easily, the Prince stared at the slave without speaking, his eyes boring into the boy's for only a moment before Merlin dropped his. The corners of the Prince's mouth struggled to maintain its straight course. He broke his stoic facade as his mouth curved into a smile just as the boy's eyes peaked up at him. He grinned at his expression of indignation before turning smartly on his heel and continuing on to the hall.

Merlin fumed silently, _Making me think...that...prat! _The slave found his mind sufficiently distracted as his brain tried to enact all the different was he could seek his revenge without it ending in the dungeons. He was just on the edge of a fairly good plot, or so he thought, when his eyes lifted and caught sight of the soldiers further down the hall, guarding the door they were to go through. Merlin's brain ceased to function at that point, resulting in his body following suit. The guards also stopped in an effort not to trample the already injured boy. It took the Prince a moment to realize he couldn't hear the sounds of footsteps trailing him before he too stopped and turned to see what the situation was.

He looked startled to find Merlin standing in the hallway, his body wracked with tremors, his face white as a sheet, blue eyes glazed. Cautiously, Arthur approached him, his hands out stretch palms angled downward in a placating gesture, his voice low and without ire.

"Merlin? Merlin, we have to go in there to testify."

The boy took a step back in response, his hands limp at his side, eyes wide. From behind, one of the guards approached the boy, stopping right behind him, creating a barrier that the slave bumped into as he continued his retreat. The boy shook his head lightly, seemingly arguing with himself, his eyes were pale with terror. The guard used his one hand to grasp Merlin's shoulder, which caused an immediate reaction. The boy jerked forward, trying to tear himself away from his assailant.

Arthur saw what was happening and lunged forward, his hands latching onto the boy's frail shoulders.

"Merlin. MERLIN! Look at me. _Look_ at me. LOOK! I'm right here. That's right. Take a deep breath. I know you don't want to go in there, I know you're afraid-"

_The King and Queen are in there, and he'll tell them to punish me! Draco will tell, and Arthur will know. They'll execute me, maybe even right then and there. No...no. I don't want to. Please don't make me!_

"-If we don't go in there then he might not be convicted. He'll get away with what he has done to the kingdom, to my Father, to me, and to _you._ Do you want that? Can you live with that?"

_I won't live with that because you'll kill me, you'll kill me for something I had no control over! I can't help it, don't you understand? I was born like this and because of that, Draco hates me. He tried to kill me and if you find out you'll try to kill me to. I don't want to die! Not yet! Not until I find my Mother. _

"Merlin? Do you trust me?"

The Prince gave a little shake to accompany his question, dragging the slave's attention back to him, his eyes still a little glassy. Seeing he had finally gotten the boy to listen to him, he repeated the question, slowly and clearly.

"Do. You. Trust. Me?"

_No._

"Look at me. I swear, I swear on my honor that I will _not_ let the sorcerer hurt you. You have my word."

_What about you? Can you protect me from yourself? From your Father? Will you, when you find out the truth, protect me from the laws of Camelot? _The words of the dragon resonated in his mind, as he fought with himself, battled to control his emotions.

'_Destined to unite the land of Albion'._

_Does that include all people? Both Magic and Non-Magic alike? _ _One day he'll unite the lands, of all people, for all people. Does that include me? Will I be able to see this future?_

Merlin looked up into the earnest eyes of the Prince of Camelot, holding his gaze as he searched them for any hint of guile. He found none. The slave licked his lips before responding. _If he isn't punished for his crimes, what's to stop him from attacking Arthur again, and succeeding, destroying the future foretold?_

"I trust you Arthur."

Arthur looked relieved.

"I trust you about as far as I can throw you."

The Prince's face fell, his hands dropping from the slave's shoulder as disappointment ran deep within him.

"Injured as I am right now, I could _still_ probably toss you a good couple of yards."

An eyebrow quirked, "Oh, _really_?"

"Yes, really... My lord."

"We'll just see about that but for now, my Father is waiting."

The Prince nodded to the trailing guard who stepped forward, signalling the other posted guards to open the door. Arthur bumped his shoulder against the uninjured side of the slave, encouraging him to follow his lead. The couple of steps it took to get to the hall and enter were some of the longest in the boy's life.

The room unfurled around him. He tried to glance around without moving his head. The slave saw that the hall was packed with richly tailored nobles, servants mingled in amongst them. The light that filtered in through the stained glass windows was particularly bright, forcing Merlin to squint against it. He made sure to keep the appropriate distance from everybody, keeping his eyes averted from meeting anyones gaze. He focused his nerves on how many steps it took him to reach the dais'. _Fifty two... _He tried to ignore the whispers that floated around him; he could feel their stares boring in on him from all sides.

"Silence."

The slave flinched. The King didn't have to shout to be heard. His powerful voice carried in the superb acoustics of the hall, as was designed.

"You have been brought before the Court that you may testify to the events of two days prior. You are reminded that you are honor-bound to tell the truth upon penalty of death should you be caught committing perjury. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Merlin wasn't sure if he was supposed to look up at that point or not, so he remained as he was. His hand fidgeting restlessly, picking at a stray thread on his left sleeve.

"Can we really trust the word of a low-born, such as this?"

"How do we know _he_ wasn't part of it?"

"-Isn't he _from _Ulbein?"

"-A slave?"

"Unheard of-"

"He's so young looking-"

"Will he make it through?"

The sound of a hand banging wood resonated throughout the chamber, all mutterings ceased immediately. Merlin peaked up through his fringe of hair and saw that the King had caused them all to become silent by hitting the arm of his throne with a flat hand. He averted his gaze when he saw that the King was turning his attention back to him.

"Begin."

The slave opened his mouth to report what happened, but found that the words were not so forthcoming. His mouth felt dry, like a well that had not received rain in quite some time. He tried to swallow but it was made difficult by the lack of moisture available to him. The sound of a cough echoed in his ears, he knew he needed to say something, anything but he couldn't drag the words from his throat. His eyes darted around the room franticly. _Can I be executed for NOT speaking?_

His eyes landed on Arthur, who stood a few feet from him, had moved at some point off to the side. The Prince caught and held his gaze steady, slowly dipping his head. Merlin forced himself to take a deep, slow breath, releasing it in a steady stream.

"I had been resting from my injuries that occurred at the end of the t-tournament when Knight Valiant's snakes had been released. I was bitten and quite ill for a time, I could hear Ar-the Prince and Gaius speaking as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I'm not sure why but something didn't-seem-right. Prince Arthur left to go attend the feast of his coronation when I felt like something was wrong. It look me a while to be able to communicate that something was wrong. Gaius tried to stop me, but I was quite...adamant. I think he too could feel something was off-"

"Is this true Physician?"

Merlin closed his open mouth, head angling towards where the King had directed his comment. He couldn't see the older man completely, but he did recognize the dark blue robe with wizened hands clasped in front.

"It is, Sire."

"You could also..._sense_ it too?"

"At first I did not, I believe I was too focused with his injuries but once I stopped to listen to him, I too, felt something was wrong."

_Did Gaius just lie to the King, for me? Maybe-maybe he did feel something?_

Merlin heard a snort of derision from somewhere, but he wasn't able to place it. He swallowed as he felt the King's gaze, along with the Court's, return to him.

"Continue."

"Emm-I made my way to the hall and found all the people in some sort of sleep. It wasn't natural, I knew tha- sorry, I made sure, by checking their pulse, like-like Gaius taught me, then I went up to the table, and saw that the A-Prince Arthur was missing, as well as my Master, and you, your highness, were injured-"

The boy continued his testimony with only minimal interruptions up until it came to the point where he found them outside and then he faltered. _How do I explain how I caught up to them? Do they suspect that I held back? I didn't tell them about the magic, and the orb. _

"I-um-caught up with them before they got to the horses-"

"_Caught_ up to us? Oh, Merlin, shouldn't you tell the _truth? _We are in Court after all."

The slave flinched backwards, his eyes following the King's in the direction of where Draco was being held between two knights, a loose piece of cloth hanging around his neck. _A gag._ It had taken him until that exact moment to work it loose so that he could interject Merlin's testimony.

"Silenc-What did you say? What truth?"

Uther demanded, his eyes flicking from the two, suspicion written into every line of his face.

Merlin's mouth dropped open, his jaw working silently, eyes wide. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, Prince Arthur had also started at the prisoner's voice, seemingly not have seen him since his attention was focused solely on the slave. His hand sought the hilt of his sword, his feet bringing him closer to Merlin, his body angled so that his back was no longer completely to the servant of Ulbein.

"Oh, did you know, _Sire?_ Merlin here, is a _sorcerer_. He used _magic_ to get to us. He was in on the whole thing. He helped us get close to Arthur, providing us information on a daily basis. Without _him_ we would have never been able to _execute_ the plan."

Gasps rang out in the hall; the sound of feet shuffling restlessly told Merlin that the entire court had just tried to get as far away from him as possible.

"No! It's not true! I-I didn't! I wou-ouldn't!"

"GUARDS! Seize the boy!"

The cold sound of steel sliding from their sheath caused tremors to wrack through the slave. He was shaking so badly he could hardly stand, his head moving back and forth in denial. Rough hands seized him by his upper arms; a swift kick to the back of his legs forced him to fall to the ground, his knees hitting the unforgiving stone floor. Twin blades crossed under his chin, creating an 'X', one false move and his head would find new residence on the floor. He winced as a hand fisted in his hair, jerking his head back to stare into the cold eyes of the King of Camelot.

"You _dare_ to lie to this Court, Sorcerer?"

"No-no! I-I-"

Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes, fear caused his throat to close, unable to form a coherent sentence. He tried to convey his feelings through his eyes, but the King would have none of it. He was already barking out orders to ready a double execution. The court exploded into whispers that quickly escalated to shouts, calling for the immediate deaths of both Ulbeins. Through the haze of voices, Merlin was able to make out the low chuckles of the other prisoner.

Shifting his eyes, he could just barely see the boy. He was smirking widely at the chaos that he caused to come to the Court.

"MY LORD!"

Merlin jerked slightly as the King started, at the sound of his son's voice, the slave tried to see the Prince but at his angle he was unable. _This is it. _

"Surely, you don't take the word of a sorcerer over his? Where is the proof that Merlin is a sorcerer? So far we have naught but _his _word?"

"He has been accused of using enchantments. We must take precautions."

"Precautions I agree with but this!? Should we not hear his side? He saved my life on multiple occasions. What purpose would he have to do that only to try and take it later?"

Murmurs bounced back and forth between nobles as they debated about the validity of the Prince's argument. Some stood with him and others staunchly against it. Uther released his hold on the boy's hair and stepped back to his throne but he left the guards where they were.

"Go ahead, ask him what he did each morning _before_ he attended to the Prince?"

Prince Arthur glared at the prisoner but he too turned his gaze to the kneeling slave, his eyes asking the same question.

Merlin couldn't look the Prince in the eye, therefore he dropped his gaze to the floor, his head hanging slightly down.

"He doesn't deny it," Uther snarled towards his son. "He as much admits his guilt by his silence."

"I-I didn't know! He, my Master, commanded me to come to his chambers each morning prior to serving the Prince. He would ask what we did the day before and what we were to do that day. I had to! I couldn't disobey him! Please-!"

"_Treason-!"_

"He IS in on it."

"-execute them both!"

"He had no choice-"

"_Please!_ I only told him what our plans were! I-I-I-" Merlin had to blink several times, his hand rising to his chest, he was finding it hard to breathe. His thighs trembled, nearly sending him forward onto the blades at his neck, hands soon following suit. The boy's chest was heaving desperately for air.

"Gaius-!"

The older physician was already moving before the Prince had a chance to finish his call. He tottered forward, his hands pulling at the boy's collar. He stopped short as the swords were in his way. He paused long enough to raise an eyebrow at the guards who looked towards their King, with his permission they stepped back. With the lack of support on his upper arms, Merlin did fall forward only to be caught by the physician's steady hands, which angled him down to the ground.

Someone else knelt beside the older man, ready to help at his request. Gaius removed his medicinal pack from his shoulder and laid it on the ground, opening it with a deft movement. He glanced over the vials and requested one from his newly minted helper. Feminine hands sifted through them to find the vial. Handing it over quickly, Gaius uncorked it and began coaxing the liquid down the unresisting throat of the slave who was a quivering mass on the ground; seemingly unaware of the now silent court, whose eyes were focused on the boy.

Slowly the medicine took effect and the boy's limbs ceased their frantic twitching. Merlin blinked up at the older man who smiled softly down at him, a hand raking through his hair and coming to rest on the back of his head.

"May I address the Court, my lord?"

Uther waved the older man permission.

"While I was treating the boy, after the encounter with the King and Servant, I noticed something."

Gaius lifted the shirt starting from the bottom hem up and over so that it covered the boy's face from view, to the gasps and murmurs of the crowd. Revealed to the court were layers upon layers of bruises. His body was a canvas of colors, mottled yellow, light greens bleeding into blues, reds and deep purples that in some places appeared black. Many of these bruises were partially covered by linens that wrapped around his torso and back to bind his ribs that had also suffered damage.

"There are some that I believe to have been inflicted prior to his arrival in Camelot, but as you can see they mark his days here with a vivid and painful advent. To me, this would seem to say that he might not have been a willing participant in the King's scheme, as the _prisoner _has alluded to. There is at least one occasion I am aware of where the boy risked his life to help out someone he didn't know. He asked me one day for several pain potions and sleeping draughts, while I did not ask him for what purpose he needed them. Since I was more than aware of the injuries he had suffered prior to that, I did come upon the knowledge that he saved a serving girl from a terrible fate at his Master's hands, at great risk to himself."

"This terrible fate, you mention, how do you know it was as bad as you think?"

"I was not present, but Guinevere, Morgana's handmaid was, and can attest to it."

"Step forward. Do you have knowledge of what the Court Physician speaks of, girl?"

From her place beside her Mistress, Gwen took several shaking steps forward.

"I-I do, Sire. On one occasion, a maid came seeking me out. A serving girl had left to attend to the King and had not returned. She went to check it out and heard cries from within. Merlin was in the same vicinity as I was and raced ahead. When the other maid and I, entered he was already inside the King's chambers trying to calm the girl down. Her hair was mussed and her dress was torn at the shoulder, enough so that she had to hold it in place. She could barely talk and was unable to walk, so bad was her shaking. He carried her home and brought her medical supplies to help her injuries.

I heard later from another maid, who had also been serving the King, that he had tried to get rough with her but Merlin happen to come in and she was able to use that time to escape."

Angry murmurs accompanied her account, and she stepped back, her hands shaking. Morgana pulled her to her side, putting her arm around her shoulder in comfort. Uther watched the handmaiden for several long moments.

"My lord, I too witnessed an altercation between the King and Guinevere. Luckily Merlin and I happened upon them before anything happened, but I do not believe it was a once off event," Prince Arthur stepped forward.

Uther leaned back in his seat, one hand raised to his eyes, he kneaded his forehead achingly. Sighing, he directed his gaze towards the slightly shivering boy on the ground. He was moving around more, coming to himself gradually. Gaius shifted his shirt back into its place to allow him some semblance of dignity.

"Boy, did you willing give state secrets to your King?"

"I,I spoke of no secrets! I didn't! Only about training and hunting and when and where they were. My Master liked to watch him train... -I wouldn't knowingly do anything against the Crown!"

"Look at me, boy."

Merlin did as commanded, his eyes rising to meet the King's, albeit hesitantly as all of his conditioning screamed at him to avert his eyes. The slave stared unwavering once their eyes met. Unblinkingly, despite when his eyes started to water. _I'm going to die. I'mgoingtodie. He's going to have me executed. I'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodie!_

Merlin's eyes widened as he saw the King lift his chin up a fraction of an inch, and dip just as slightly. The slave dropped his eyes, his shoulders following suit, the tremors were making their presence known again throughout his body.

"NO! NO! NONONO!"

The hairs on the back of Merlin's neck stood on their ends, his hands were moving shoving the older physician to the ground, which also knocked his female helper down in the process. The slave placed himself in front of his downed helpers. He saw Draco, his face contorted in rage. Draco shouldered the guards off of him and sent them flying backwards. The cuffs on his wrists were streaming green light. He raised one hand, his fingers splayed towards the slave who was on the ground, using his body as a shield to the others wincing as he felt heat envelope his neck, courtesy of the necklet.

Green collated in Draco's hand, sparking from his fingertips as he yelled, his magic flared.

"Diiiieaaa-."

The ear-splitting cry hung in the air with a ring of incomplete silence. His voice bubbled into a gurgle, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. From behind the slumping body of the prisoner was Prince Arthur, his sword tip protruding from his chest. The light had already faded from Draco's eyes as his body hit the ground. A dull thud echoed throughout the hall as the dead body hit the floor, his head hitting last, his face turned towards Merlin, eyes unseeing. The slave couldn't tear his eyes away from the dead orbs. He didn't feel the physician's hands on his shoulder; he didn't hear the explosion of voices as the Court found their voices.

Vaguely he could feel the motion as Gaius turned his shoulders in an effort to break his staring, but the slave's head didn't follow his shoulders. It wasn't until the physician abandoned his shoulders and instead grasped the sides of his face and forced his head to move and he found himself staring into the older eyes of Gaius that he finally blinked.

"Silence. The Court is dismissed. Leave the hall."

Gradually the hall quieted down as the Court left as commanded, their voices filtering down the hallways as they congregated to the outside.

"Guards, remove the body from the hall and burn it."

The scuffing of boots spoke of them following their directive along with the sound of a limp body being dragged between them. The door clicked shut somewhere behind Merlin but he didn't glance towards it, his mind floated elsewhere.

"I am sorry you had to witness that."

"It was difficult to hear, but I am relieved to know that I can now put it behind me. I knew that his heart was already pledged to another but I did not know of his… obsession with your son. I am sorry that he was pulled into this."

"Thrust it from your mind, the fault lies no here with you. Now, let us move on to more pleasant things. When do you plan to return to Ulbein? Arthur's Coronation will commence in two weeks' time and we would be honored if you would join us.

"Uh, yes, please do join us," Prince Arthur agreed.

"I would be honored to attend. I do need to return soon though but I will make every effort to return in time to join you in celebration."

"Of course, your servants shall be returned to you. The boy shall also be made available to you as he has been cleared of suspicion with regards to my son, he will be ready to travel when you are."

Merlin's head jerked up at the mention of his impending departure. His eyes met Arthur's, who looked startled at the idea. The slave's eyes dropped to the ground, resignation weighing his body down.

An:/: aaaaaaand break. Sorry for the delay but I was trying to carefully craft this. Let's see, can I squeeze the rest into one more chapter and then an epilogue?

What did you think of the trial...? At least somewhat believable? Did they get justice? Any guesses on what happens next? Too predictable?

Reviewers I couldn't PM:

Guest: Most of those answers you are looking for will come in the next INFO-packed chapter, and I am really glad you stumbled upon my little journey into the awesome world of : Sadly my Google translate seems to hate me, as I couldn't find a translation for that but it looked pretty to me!Irene: Sorry, wish I could take credit for that reference but I have no idea who Andy Bull is, so it was just a happy coincidence. And your other questions will be answered : Heheh, all the answers coming next chapter, I swear. I'm not putting it off, I promise, it's just the natural order of how these things happened.

Love ya!

R.S

(H.D.S)


	23. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"Father-?"

"_Arthur._"

"-I mean, my lord, surely after everything he has done for this kingdom, he should be rewarded. He saved my life, repeatedly!"

"It is not within my power to grant such a request. He is neither a subject of this kingdom, nor is a freeman. He must be held to his debt; else our laws should collapse in on itself."

The slave in question could hear the argument brewing on his behalf, but he himself was unable to participate in it, he was so caught up in his own mind. The relief at being free from his Master only to be reminded of the change in ownership, something he had been through before, and wondered what that meant for him. _Will she be kind? Or is she as cruel as her husband? I can't remember a time when I was alone with just her. I remember seeing her from a distance but never exchanged or glances. Is she like Gwen? Morgana maybe? She does resemble her, with her dark, wavy hair, her pale skin that has rarely seen the sun. _

Merlin didn't react as Gaius shifted from behind him, one hand seeking out the boy's shoulder giving it a light squeeze before he got to his feet.

"Surely the law can grant the boy-"

"My lord, may I address the matter?"

"Gaius, you have something to say regarding the boy?"

"Indeed. I knew the boy must have some substantial debt hanging over his head if he has been branded as a debt-slave-"

"If you are going to ask for a pardon to his debt because of his deeds, then I will remind you of what my son has apparently forgotten about the laws of the land and the need to be upheld."

"No Sire that is not what I wish to bring up. I understand and stand by the laws of Camelot."

Merlin's mind turned over that this was a new fate, to serve a Mistress instead of a Master, he heard what Uther had said and knew that it was the end of what little hope he had had. He tried to tune out the physician; his spirit couldn't bear to listen any further. Then he became distracted, the helper from earlier, the woman, took residence behind him with her soft hands attempting to give comfort by a light touch to his hand. A shiver, like a small bolt of energy started from the touch and raced up his arm through his body all the way to the tip of crown. It was a pleasant sensation, so much so that he closed his eyes and basked in the touch.

"No, my lord, I decided to approach the records with some haste. I remembered someone from my past that had an experience with debt; the result was her child was taken from her to satisfy the debt. That was some twelve years past. At first I wasn't able to find the records, as she was from another kingdom. Then I remembered that there was a short span of years when her village was under Camelot's rule, and so I had been searching in the wrong place."

"Get on with it, what does this have to do with the boy?"

"Begging your pardon Sire, if you will allow me a few more moments to explain. Once I realized this I approached Geoffrey of Monmouth, I had a rough idea of the year it happened, and with his help we located the note of debt."

There was some rustling off to the side, a man with a long white beard held aloft a scroll for the King to take. Uther received it, and opened it up.

"You will note that the debt was made out to one Hunith of Ealdor, and the sum as well as the date."

"Yes, yes, so we now have established that the debt is legal. I don't see the point in this, physician."

"He has been in the service of others these long years, and you'll note that the debt while it was large for someone of a small village, it is not sufficient to hold a person as a debt-slave for _all_ those twelve years. I calculated the pay of someone in the lowest position, and had Geoffrey confirm it, that in fact, the debt would have been paid in full some five years earlier."

"What are you saying?"

"The boy, Merlin, has been unlawfully held as a debt-slave for the last five years of his service."

Had the boy been paying attention he would have felt the eyes of all those left in the hall turn as one towards him, as he was not paying attention he missed it.

"Geoffrey, you can confirm his findings?"

"Yes your majesty, I have received the documentation, calculated the figures myself and agree with Gaius, Sire."

"May I see that?"

Uther held the scroll for the Queen of Ulbein to glance over, her eyes reading over the writing quickly, her mind calculating wages in accordance to their payment.

"It is true. This poor boy should be released from this debt forthwith."

"Agreed. A quill."

Geoffrey was already ready, a quill in hand as well as an ink well, Uther sat on his throne, using the arm to create a hard surface. He scratched his name on the scroll, along with the date and other details. He handed it back to Geoffrey who grasped the scroll with care.

"See that this is taken care of immediately. As he is no longer bound as a slave, a reward for serving the Crown is in order I think, something special. Ah, he was your manservant for a time, was he not?"

Prince Arthur nodded, a little unsure of where his Father's line of thought was heading.

"He shall be awarded a permanent position in the house, as your personal manservant."

All around the boy cheers and clapping erupted startling the boy out of his musings. He jerked from the soft touch, his eyes wide like a deer caught within a crossbow's hair.

"Wha-?"

The King arose once more, holding out his hand for the Queen to take, "Now, if you will allow me to escort you to the dining hall, you must be hungry."

"I confess I am looking forward to sharing a meal, my lord."

"Excellent."

With that the King and Queen swept out of the hall, not a backwards glance at the confused boy or at the beaming few left. Once the doors closed behind them, Gwen and Morgana raced forward, throwing their arms around the bewildered boy who grimaced at the ache in his muscles and bruises jolted by their enthusiasm.

"Congratulations-!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"They should give you the pay you should have received had you been freed!"

"Free! Oh, Merlin."

Merlin sought out the only person his mind could think of. His eyes met the Princes, who looked both relieved and yet troubled. Arthur understood the question in the boy's eyes and took pity on him.

"Alright, quit your mollycoddling. Merlin, did you hear anything that Gaius said?"

Dimly, he shook his head, "No, what he'd say?"

"Basically, you're free. You are no longer a slave."

Merlin's mind went blank, it was as if he was no longer capable of thought, let alone speech. He saw Arthur's lips moving but he couldn't hear the words he said past 'he was no longer a slave'. _Is he messing with me? Would he be that cruel, to take on of my deepest wishes and throw it in my face? Why would he do that? Gaius, and Gaius would be in on it? _He forced his head to turn, his eye brushing past Gwen, Morgana, Arthur and an older woman with kind blue eyes to find Gaius. He found him standing behind Arthur, his hands behind his back. The physician was watching him, studying his movements with care.

Gaius saw that the boy was watching him, and so he edged forward, putting one hand on the Prince's shoulder, causing Arthur to move out of the way which resulted in a domino effect parting the others as well. Gaius knelt down (with a little help from Arthur) to be at his eye level.

"Merlin, it is true."

Gaius then proceeded to give the former slave a more brief account of what he had told the King, watching Merlin's face as he tried to process what he was being told.

_Five years?! I could have been free five years ago? _

_Scchiiink_

The sound of Arthur finally putting his sword back in his sheath brought Merlin back to his senses. He realized that at some point he had started shaking again, _Why can't my body just settle down?! _He balled his hands into fists, attempting to force all his nervous energy into one place.

"Oh."

A tiny ring echoed in the silent hall, drawing all eyes to the Prince who was staring at his feet. Gaius gasped, lying harmlessly on the floor was the leather bracelet with the enchanted stone, and he approached it with care. Using a scrap of cloth he wrapped it up and carefully placed it inside his medicinal pack, then turned around to Merlin, who watched him with anxiety one hand reaching for his necklet.

"What did you do?" Merlin whispered, desperation in his voice, "How did you take it off? How do I take it _off_? _Please_! Tell me!"

"I-I don't know, it just came off on its own when I put my hand down."

Seeing the boy's hand shaking, the familiar soft, feminine hand grasps it and pulled it gently down.

"Please let me."

Unable to say anything, Merlin nodded, his adam's-apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. Her hand touched the necklet, searching for a seam but finding none. Not giving up she reached around back to where a normal back would be located and pulled. With a barely audible click it fell apart in her hands, two halves of cold metal, on the inside she could see runes running through it. Looking up she gasped in dismay, there written on his skin were the same runes as on the inside, puckered and slightly red. Her hands also started to shake sending the halves crashing to the floor, nevertheless she still reached for his throat and felt the symbols as tears pricked at her eyes.

"Oh. Oh, Merlin, I am so sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me!"

The boy frowned, distressed by her obvious torment, "Why are you apologizing? You didn't do this."

"Oh, but I did. It's all my fault. My fault. I'm sorry. Look at what I have done to you!"

Merlin looked to Gaius in helplessness as to why this woman was so wracked with sorrow. He looked at them sadly, his eyes reflecting her pain.

"I said that I knew of a person who had also had this happen to them, but what I didn't mention was that that person was my younger sister, Hunith."

"_Your _sister?!"

A chorus of voices reacted, their heads swivelled back and forth from the physician to the woman embracing a still confused Merlin.

"Yes, my sister-"

"No, please, let me tell him," the woman begged, her voice a little stronger now that she had had a moment to collect herself. She ignored the gasp of the other two females present, recognizing that they had already figured it out. Turning her attention back to the boy in her arms, she couldn't resist pulling him into an embrace, angling her head she whispered into the boy's ear.

When Merlin made no move, she repeated it. Again he didn't react. Shifting her weight, she moved so that she could rest her chin on top of his head, then she reached down and gently pulled one of his hands and lay it across her chest, just below her collar bone and left it there. It took him a moment but he pulled his other hand up and rested it on the same spot on his own chest, listening and feeling the thrum of their hearts beating in unison. His eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned more of his weight against her, content to just listen and bask in her warmth.

In a small voice, not unlike the one she heard last over a decade ago, he whispered back, "Mother?"

"Yes, son, it's me and I have waited so long for you to say those words. So very long." Her voice wobbled at the end, breaking in emotion while one tear after another escaped from the corner of her eyes. She released his hand and wrapped both her arms around her son, the long lost one, the one she had been searching for, hoping that someday she might be reunited even though the chances were slim.

"What? What did he say? What did she say?"

Hunith, Mother of Merlin, ignored the Prince's voice in the background, choosing instead of just hold her son, who no longer fit in her arms the way he used to, but still snuggled against her as if she were the only life line he had. She rested her cheek against his head and closed her own eyes, letting Gaius answer the questions she didn't care for. She just wanted this moment to last and prayed that she wasn't dreaming that this wasn't a cruel hope only to be ripped away once she opened her eyes again.

"Prince Arthur, I'd like to introduce you to my sister, Hunith, Merlin's Mother."

"MERLIN'S MOTHER?!"

"Oh honestly, Arthur, it's not that surprising. He looks just like her."

"No he doesn't, he's a _guy_."

There was a slightly less than delicate snort, which had the Prince waspishly retorting, "I suppose you'll be telling me next Gwen that you think he looks like her as well?"

"I don't think he looks like an exact copy of her, if that's what you are implying, Sire; however, I do see the resemblance. He has her eyes, and her soft disposition."

"How can you tell? Their eyes are closed. Wait, did he fall asleep _again?_ What is it with that guy? He's always falling asleep."

"Maybe it's just you, Arthur. Your voice just puts him to sleep."

"What?! It does not!"

"Perhaps, we should get Merlin situated back in my chambers where he'll be more comfortable," Gaius suggested.

"He looks plenty comfortable right where he is," Arthur mumbled under his breath. For some reason the Prince couldn't identify, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene of Merlin safely tucked in his Mother's arms. He felt his chest tighten as he saw Hunith reaching up to card her fingers through the boy's hair, repeatedly.

"_Arthur._"

"What?!"

"We need to get Merlin up to Gaius' chambers," Morgana reminded him.

"Yeah, so?"

Arthur looked around to find everyone else looking at him, _What?_ It took a minute but then he understood why they were looking at him, realization hit him in the face like someone opening his curtains to let the sunlight in.

"I am _not _a horse!"

"Actually, today you are," Morgana shot back.

She knelt beside Hunith and waved the Prince over, who reluctantly did as bidden. Awkwardly he tried to take a hold of the boy without jolting him too much, but he soon realized that short of dropping him. So deep was his exhaustion that Merlin would not be waking any time soon. Hitching him up on his back, Arthur motion to Gwen with his head to precede him out and left Morgana to help Merlin's mother follow them.

"Gwen, I need you to make sure my Father doesn't see us."

"Yes Sire."

Despite carrying the load on his back, Arthur was able to make it back to Gaius' rather quickly. Depositing him back on his cot on the lower level in the Physician's chambers, the Prince shuffled backwards to allow Gaius better access to the boy. The women had retreated a few paces back, with Morgana asking Hunith several questions as to where she has been all this time and how she came to be here for the trial. Merlin's Mother only provided short answers; her face was turned towards her sleeping son, her mind on him and not on the women.

Eventually Gwen was able to persuade Morgana that she was in need of returning to her own chambers as she would no doubt be required to be in attendance at mealtime as a show for the visiting Queen, which then prompted Arthur to return as well, despite his own curiosity. Hunith joined Gaius in his vigil over the boy now that the others were gone. Merlin rested easy, despite his injuries, his breath slow and even, his face smooth and without worry for perhaps the first time since Gaius came to know the boy.

"He has dealt with so much in his short life, and yet I am sure will have to go through more… I don't know if I can take it, Gaius. I just want to hold him in my arms once more, and protect him from the world but already it has left its mark on him. He has aged, and not just physically; it's his eyes, they've seen more than I would ever have wanted for him."

"I cannot disagree with you, my sister, but despite all he has gone through, I think you will find that your little boy is still there. I have witnessed his tender heart, and his quick wit. He has grown but he has grown into a more than worthy man somehow. Now, I believe you too have suffered much and need your rest, why don't you go to Merlin's room and I will wake you if he wakes up first."

Hunith did as suggested, her mind already fogging up as she tried to comprehend that today she met her son for the first time in over eleven years. She got to hold her little boy who had grown into a man without her.

-mo(-,-)om-

"How long is he going to sleep for?"

"Arthur, hush, he has been through a lot these past two weeks. Let him rest."

"Two weeks? By my reckoning he has only had a week and -"

"Don't forget all the traveling he did just to get here? _That _was on foot."

Sound gradually became louder, filtering through his mind as he tried to understand his surroundings. He tried to remember what had happened before he fell asleep, he knew it was something important, something precious but he couldn't grasp what it was. It bothered him; he wanted to know, to remember. He clawed at the inky darkness, trying to find his way back to the surface.

"Are you _fawning_ over him?"

"Don't be ridiculous, unlike you, I just happen to have some compassion for those less fortunate than ourselves, something you couldn't possibly understand."

"Right, and the fact that-"

"Shhh. I think he is waking up. Hurry, go get Gaius and Hunith."

"Why _me_?"

"Well, I can hardly run around the castle in a dress, Arthur. Go!"

Grumbling, the Prince left to find the physician and Merlin's Mother with all haste, only slowing down when he could hear someone approaching, then once they were out of sight he sped up again.

-090-

The former slave shifted on the bed, his limbs twitching as he returned to the land of the wake. Blinking against the brightness that assaulted his eyes, he turned his head in an effort to give rest to his eyes so that they might adjust. Inhaling deeply, the boy realized that he couldn't hear the voices anymore. He ignored the small aches in his body, flipped over onto his side and found the source of one of the voices. Large green eyes watched his movements, framed by long wavy dark locks of hair like the night sky. It took another moment for his mind to make the connection: dark hair, green eyes, painted lips..._Morgana._ It took him another second to finally feel the soft breeze against his bare skin, causing it to break out in tiny little mounds as the blanket slipped at his movements. His blue eyes widened comically as he jerked on the blankets to cover himself back up, being in the presence of a Lady, and the King's Ward at that.

So hasty was he that the blankets over his feet were pulled too far and left his feet bare for her to see, and the cold embrace of the breeze. With a yelp he pulled his feet up so that he resembled more of a ball than a person, leaving only his eyes visible above the blanket. Morgana tried to rein in her emotions, but she found the actions of Merlin too funny and her lips betrayed her amusement. The tips of the boy's ears reddened in response without his bidding. Deciding she had tortured the poor boy to long already, she turned to the side slightly so that her gaze was directed elsewhere to give him the illusion of privacy. The rustling of bottles, chairs and books being moved spoke of the boy attempting to find something within reach to cover himself with.

"Would you like me to fetch you a shirt?"

"Oh no, I couldn't ask that of you, my Lady."

"Nonsense, you didn't, I did."

Without another word, she glanced around the room before concluding that she'd have to look elsewhere to find the boy clothing. _Gwen must have already taken the shirt he had been wearing to the wash. Um, oh, Gaius said that Hunith had been staying Merlin's room and she retired up those stairs, so his clothing should be there._ She rustled around in his small room before she found a few pair of freshly laundered shirts, finding a nice blue one that matched his eyes she nodded in satisfaction before returning to his bedside. Handing it over to him, she once again turned her back so that he could pull it over his head.

"Ah...auugh-"

Hearing the boy having trouble, she turned around and without a word helped to sort him out. Straightening the shirt so that he could get his head through the proper hole, she was just starting to pull it down when she heard the door open and Arthur enter.

"Morgana! Wha-are you?!"

Arching a delicate eyebrow, she glanced over at him before rolling her eyes and turning back to Merlin, who's head popped through the collar causing his hair to become even more dishevelled. His blue eyes were wide and clear and Morgana found herself searching them. The boy averted his eyes first, and she finally came to herself, blinking, she realized how close she was and how this might look. Attempting to maintain her dignity she spun on her heel and walked briskly past the trio, muttering something about retrieving Gwen before she exited rather quickly, hoping they didn't notice the flush of color adding to her cheeks.

While Arthur continued to sputter after Morgana, Gaius approached the boy, his eyes warm and open.

"How are you feeling, my boy?"

Merlin flushed at the term of endearment but answered him truthfully. The physician was pleased with the rate the boy was healing at, nevertheless he checked the various wrappings and bruising, once he was satisfied he moved to allow Hunith access to her son. The former slave plucked at the blanket still covering his legs as he watched her through the fringe of his bangs. She walked slowly, a soft smile on her lips as she sat on the edge of his bed, one hand immediately seeking out his. Hunith let it lay within his reach but without touching, Merlin swallowed, he inched one hand closer to her and paused. When she didn't pull away, he used his fingers to crawl closer until his fingers were covering just the tips of hers.

Hunith watched as he curiously caressed her fingers, allowing him another minute to get used to her touch once more, she then slowly turned her hand over so that her palm faced up. Without hesitation this time, Merlin rested his hand in hers and relaxed as her thumbs moved in small circular motions on the top of his hand, in the space between his thumb and first finger. He watched the motion and then gathered his courage to glance up at her. Tears glistened in her eyes, unshed and unashamed as she gaze down at her child, her son, the one her heart has longed for more so than any other.

"Did...did you look for me?"

"**Yes**. I did, I searched for so long. You were the only thing that got me through the days of separation, the hope that one day I would find you again."

"What happened?" Prince Arthur broke in, and received glares from Morgana, who had entered without notice, Gwen at her side.

"_Arthur!_" Morgana chided.

"What? You want to know too, you can't deny it."

"Yes, but some of us have tact."

"What do you remember, Merlin?" Hunith asked, her voice wobbling slightly.

His hand tightened on her briefly, "Not much. It's mostly a blur. I had some dreams of-of things that I think happened."

"The beginning, I think, then. Your Father had to leave, not of his own free will, and it was several months after that that I realized that I was pregnant with you. I was so happy because while I was separated from him, I now had a part of him to be with me. You. Times became extremely difficult; I was a soon to be single Mother in a small village that was already struggling to make ends meet. I was able to make do with what I had, and several of the other villagers were generous to me, especially seeing as I was with child.

The morning I had you was one of the most difficult and yet rewarding ever, you were born just as the sun rose, born as the morning greeted our village and I took it to be a good omen of the things to come. The elders of the village were eager to welcome a new child into their midst and they shared their wisdom without a second thought. You were such a joy as a baby, so curious and quiet and yet you had a mischievous streak in you that kept me on my toes, literally."

His Mother laughed quietly to herself, as she became immersed in her own happy memories of their life together. She squeezed his hand, sending constant warmth from her hand to his and he relished it.

"A few years passed, and we had many hard winters which affected our crops, and badly. Things became so bad, we lost several children and elderly of our small village. I feared I would also lose you, Merlin, so I made a deal. I took out a loan, with the hopes to be able to pay it back within the appropriate amount of time but then war broke out between Camelot and Lot's Kingdoms and we fell under the reign of Lot, who cared not for a small producer of farm land. Things became ever worse, our crops were plundered by the King's men as "payment" for their services of protection, of which we received none but were unable to protest.

Eventually, the debt came due and I still did not have enough to pay it off, not nearly enough. I begged and pleaded for more time, but I was brushed off. You, Merlin, were playing in the fields and you came home, I never found out why. Next thing I know, they have you, and I'm screaming at them to let you go. T-then th-hey just took you. I fought them but no matter what I did, it didn't stop them. Someone must have hit me because then next thing I remember was waking up to moonlight on my face and a silent house. An empty house, there was no laughter, no _you_. I was alone."

Hunith let her voice trail off, choosing instead to focus on the warmth her son was radiating in her hand. Her son that here with her. Taking the chance, she left her one hand in his hand and brought up her other hand to cup his cheek gently lifting him up to meet her eyes for the second time.

Merlin searched her eyes, her blue eyes that were reflected in his own features, something he shared in common with his Mother. _She looks sincere. That fit with my dream. So, it's true, right? He lied to me. _It was in relief that the tears crested and began to pour down his cheeks, spilling onto her hand and dripping off of his chin. Heaves racked his body, he sobbed and he sobbed. Over ten years of pain and torment shook his entire frame. He felt her hand drop from his cheek and her other hand pulled away from his, instead moving to encircle his body, pulling him tight against her body.

Her hands moved in short circular motions on his back, rocking him back and forth as she murmured words of comfort into his ear. He didn't understand them, so consumed was he but he did understand the feelings she tried to convey. He heard boots shuffling, _Probably Arthur. He never knew his Mother. He doesn't know the comfort she can give. _He also heard sniffing, of which he assumed was the women folk. He felt water splash against his neck and realized that his Mother was also shedding tears for him and for the life they could have had and will be building.

"It wasn't true. He lied," Merlin whispered.

"What? What wasn't true?" Hunith asked softly.

"H-he said that you never looked for me. That you abandoned me. That I wasn't stolen but sold."

Gasps all around, were followed by a torrent of angry words courtesy of Morgana.

"Who said that?"

"Jarl."

Arthur hissed at the name, "He's a slave trader. Was he the one who took Merlin?"

"No, I made the deal with another. His name was Kanen."

Hunith rubbed her son's back a little more vigorously, trying to loosen the sudden tense figure in her arms. She felt him shift his weight, he pulled away from her and she felt the loss both physically and emotionally.

Merlin tried not to look at his Mother as he pulled back, needing to put space between himself and her. He tried to quell a shiver but it escaped despite his efforts. In contrast he laughed, but it wasn't a one of humor, it was of relief.

"He lied. That's what he tried to drill into my mind in the beginning but I still remembered you and I resisted. So, he switched tactics. I still wondered though. I mean, there was still something in the back of my mind that wondered and it grew as the years passed but I still had to hope. That's all I had left. Hope."

"You said he switched tactics...?" Arthur prompted.

"_Arthur!_" Morgana hissed but the Prince paid no attention, he wanted answers and if Merlin was finally going to provide them, then he wasn't going to stop him.

"You could have escaped; why did you?"

"Oh, I tried in the beginning. I almost made it, well I did make it but he caught me. He tried to...persuade me that that was not a good idea but he didn't realize that that wasn't a strong enough motivation. I tried again and again and again. Then he realized that nothing he could do physically to me would keep me in check."

"Physically? You mean the scars?"

"Scars?" Hunith gasped.

"He tried, but so did...others. No, he found a far more effective way," Merlin admitted.

His Mother grasped his hand, seeking to anchor herself with him, trembling at what could have been more effective than a beating. Merlin covered her hand with his other, liking the feeling of being the one to give comfort. He searched his mind for other methods that he had seen others do. Hesitantly, he drew her forward, pulling her against his chest and lightly brought his lips to her forehead. This prodded a memory of his own, a hazy one of his Mother doing the same thing to him, previously.

"He threatened you," Merlin whispered but the words carried nonetheless. "He told me all sorts of things he would do before he killed you. So I stayed. I didn't try to escape after that; well, at least not until I was in the King's possession, and I met Freya."

Prince Arthur opened his mouth to ask about "Freya", but was stopped by a sharp poke to his side, courtesy of Gwen who shook her head. He raised an eyebrow in response to her impertinence but she didn't look the least bit remorseful. He humored her for now, decided to interrogate her later.

"It's all my fault. Oh, Merlin, I am so sorry..." Hunith wept into his shoulder, shudders once more taking hold of her small frame.

Merlin let go over her, sliding off of the bed and down onto one knee in front of her, there he grasped her hands between his and waited until she looked down at him, in the eyes.

"You can't blame yourself but I can see you already do and nothing I can say will dissuade you from that. I can however forgive you."

She shook her head, denial in every tremble of her slight frame, but he only squeezed her hands until he had her looking at him again. He spoke slowly, and earnestly.

"I. Forgive. You."

Hunith slipped down from the cot to kneel beside Merlin, and just enfolded him in her arms. Merlin assumed that she would have no more tears to shed, but she proved him wrong as another few fell upon his shoulders, soaking through his shirt. He rocked her back and forth slowly, he felt his magic rise within him and closed his eyes as he felt it seep from him. He felt his Mother relax in his arms, he felt her tears cease as her weight settled more fully against him. He continued to rock her even after he felt her go completely limp in his arms.

Shifting her weight, he settled one hand against her back and the other under her knees and tried to lift her. His legs trembled at the effort, his face turning red as he struggled to stand. He started slightly as he felt a hand drop on his shoulder; he looked up into the eyes of the Prince.

"Let me take her, you're still healing."

"No, no, I want to."

"I know you do, and I get it but your body can't keep up with you. Let me help you."

Merlin debated, knowing Arthur was right but still having the desire to do this for his Mother. He gave one more try and when he couldn't get to his feet, he knew he had to acquiesce to him. He nodded, red staining his cheeks as the Prince took her in his own arms and effortlessly stood, waiting for Merlin to follow suit. Wobbling slightly, Merlin led the way to his room and opened the door for Arthur, watching as he set her down with extreme care. The boy shuffled forward, brushing a lock of hair from her face tenderly before he pulled the blankets up and over her. The Prince watched as the boy fluffed the pillow around her and fussed over his sleeping Mother, trying to ignore the tightening he felt in his chest at the obvious affection he held for her despite their long separation. He took the opportunity to leave first, allowing Merlin another few moments with his Mother, alone.

Arthur returned down the few steps to find that Gwen and Morgana had long since excused themselves, and Gaius had retired to his bench pouring over some old text. Running a hand through his hair, he peered over the old man's shoulder to find that the text was in a language he couldn't understand. There was a sketch that resembled the metal collar that had come off on in halves.

"What is it? Does it say?"

"It's called Anam Ceanglóra, or Soul Binding," Gaius translated.

AN: Well, at least ONE major reveal was covered. Did that answer your questions? Next up the dreaded collar of DOOM! Duh duh duuuuuun!

Review responses to those un-PM-able

Guest: So glad you liked it, really! I am! Hope this one did as well.

Sahba: Here you are! What did you think? Good? Bad?

Irene: The pattern? Yup, I definitely pilfered their names from a certain other book series of famous proportions. We are very similar...like clones but who is the original? You HBR? Awesome! How long? Do you have your own?

Everyone else: Seriously you guys, reviews REALLY brighten my day, making me dance in my seat (with people staring at me oddly). So close to the finish line! I LUV you!

-Also note that I am working on finishing the LAST chapter of my OTHER story. I didn't forget about it, I swear!-

R.S/HDS: 3.13.13


	24. Chapter 22

AN: Still a little rough but I didn't want you to wait any longer. If you catch any major mistakes, please let me know and I will fix it. Also please forgive my butcher of the Gaelic language as I use a translation software from the internet to attempt to find the right words for my purposes. -:-)- Please review my amazing readers!

**Chapter 22**

"Anam Ceangail?" Arthur repeated, not liking the heavy weight that settled in his stomach at Gaius' revelation. _Soul binding? Does that mean Merlin is bound to him? He's dead though, so he should be alright...right?_

The Prince saw the look that Merlin shot to the old physician when he finally returned from his room, _fear_, Arthur mused from the way the former slave's shoulders hunched in on themselves, his eyes hooded by shadows. Slowly, the young man shuffled back to the bed where he wearily sank down, hands folded on his lap. Prince Arthur watched Merlin for a few more seconds before he returned his attention to Gaius, who was still observing the young man over his shoulder.

Turning back to the pages before him, Gaius rearranged a few items onto the table, some of which Arthur recognized and a few he didn't. Two halves of Merlin's collar lay beside Gaius' book and on the other side of the collar was a necklace pendant, then Arthur's leather bracelet and finally tiny bits of some sort of carving he couldn't identify.

"This is the (collar) "iobair", "iomlan" (pendant), "munlaigh" (bracelet), "feadain" (fragments). There are several keys to what Severus had intended, and each piece was an integral part of his plan; for none of it would have come to pass without each piece of the puzzle."

Arthur saw the twitch in Merlin's face when Gaius used the word 'plan', he was barely able to suppress a shudder at the King's name.

The old man swept the pieces of feadain to one side, careful to keep them in a tight cluster, as he brought his magnifying circle to his eye. With a tiny pair of wood pincers, he rearranged the pieces until it formed a rectangle with small bits missing. If the Prince squinted hard enough he could just barely make out some carving amongst the cracks and scuffs of the stone.

"This feadain is one of the keys, and as you can see has been destroyed completely so there is no fear of it ever being used again. This is what was directing the spell the King used on you," Gaius explained.

He could see the confused look on both Merlin and Arthur's face, so he tried a different route.

"Think of it like, this " feadain " is Sir Leon. When he is out on patrol, he is the one directing the knights movements, if he were to be taken out, there would be confusion and loss of direction, the same is true with this piece here. The " iomlan " is secondary piece, it is part of the control of the " iobair ". It commands " iobair " but runs through " feadain ", it controls both " feadain " and " iobair ", in that respect, it would represent you, Arthur. You control Sir Leon, and give him the directions, and he carries it out for you. That leads to " iobair ", which is the power that makes all this possible-"

"When you say power, are you speaking of magic?" Arthur demanded, his eyes flickering over to Merlin, who stiffened in response.

Merlin glanced towards the Prince at his accusing words, his heart pounding a furious staccato within his chest. _Does he know? He knows or at least he guesses; probably from what Draco said. Is Gaius going to tell him? Would they kill my Mother too? For not turning me in? They wouldn't, would they? No, not Gaius, he's her brother but Arthur..._

"In this case, I was referring to Merlin's soul."

"His soul? I don't understand," Arthur responded.

"This collar, iobair, was literally sucking Merlin's soul out through it. I imagine there were times where you felt really tired, Merlin?"

Dumbly, the boy could only nod in agreement as his mind raced with Gaius' revelation. _The dream, the glowing green vines, that was the magic stealing mine._

"If things had not ended the way they had, Merlin would likely be dead or at the very least a living dead. A person with a body but no soul within. He would have no memory of who he was, no thoughts of his own. He would merely exist."

A shudder took a turn about the room as it brought out terrible visions to their minds on what Merlin would have looked liked. _ Dull grey eyes bore back at Arthur, unblinking, the features that accompanied those eyes were limp, and unresponsive. Slowly, the Prince brought one hand up and snapped his fingers in front of those large eyes. Nothing. Not a twitch, a blink, nor flinch. He spoke his name, and the eyes didn't move. Taking a step out of his line of sight, he watched as the eyes remained forward._

_000-_

_Scrambling back as far away as Merlin could get until his back hit the rough unfinished wall, and still his fingers scraped for some sort of exit. Dimly he was aware that his fingers burned as skin was cruelly scraped from soft pads, but he didn't care all he wanted was to get away from the figure opposite him in the deep, dank cell. He ignored the water that was seeping through his boots, tried to ignore the whimpers that rose unbidden in his throat. It wasn't that the figure was scary in the normal sense, he didn't cackle or threaten him in anyway. It was his lack of feeling. He didn't know how to explain it but there was a void where he should be able to _feel him_. To sense his spirit, his life force, his magic but there was nothing. Never had this happened, no matter how little of access a person had to their innate magic, Merlin had always been able to sense it. This lack of feeling unnerved him, scared him more than he would like to admit. Warm tears cascaded down his cheeks as a hollow feeling seemed to take hold of him, as if just being in the presence was affecting his own magic. One hand sought out his chest, and he rubbed at it vigorously, trying to warm himself. His foot slipped hitting something. Finally tearing his eyes away from the man, they found what his foot had found. He screamed, and screamed. He screamed even after no sound made it past his parched throat. A skull rolled to face up, promising a similar future for him._

___000-_

_Hunith sobbed, her body wracked with harsh tremors, her hands seeking the safety of the folds of his robes. His hands wrapped around her, holding her close trying to avert his eyes from the boy laying curled on his side under the cover of a thin sheet. His heart ached, for the long separation his sister had from her son, to the bitter reunion, one that was supposed to be light and happy but was filled with sorrow and longing for the little boy she used to be able to cradle in her arms. The only thing Gaius could do was rock her gently in his arms. _

Gaius cleared his throat, bringing them all back to the present.

"That being said there is also a secondary function of both iomlan and iobair, that being one of control. With this pendant the King was also able to bend the wearer to his will, by punishing them. Depending on his choice of words, he could enact anything from a minor shock to a painful jolt."

Arthur followed Gaius' line of sight and witnessed Merlin rubbing his throat absentmindedly. The Prince fought to keep his emotions in check, choosing instead channel his anger into his fists; which he clenched and unclenched tightly. Merlin seemed to realize what he was doing, dropping his hand to his lap as if burned. Arthur's own wrist twinges, reminding him of the short time was also held prisoner to the King' whims, however misguided they were. Almost frantically, Arthur pulled the cuff of his sleeve down over his bandaged wrist.

"But we are fine now, right?" Arthur demanded.

"...Yes."

Merlin visibly sagged, limbs limp with relief. Arthur watched him, a slight twitch of his lips revealing his amusement at the young man's abandonment of decorum.

"Don't be such a _girl_, Merlin."

He waited for a retort but none was forthcoming. Frowning, he moved to get a better view. His mouth dropped open; Merlin was asleep.

"_Seriously_?!"

Gaius cleared his throat, to cover his amusement at both the Prince and at his Nephew, Arthur spun to face him, his arms waving.

"Do you see him?! He fell asleep, again, on me."

"Well, to be fair, he was quite severely injured, Arthur."

The Prince grunted in recognition of the truthfulness of these words, he returned to watching the sleeping boy. Without a word, he strode to his bedside and with careful movements, he shifted Merlin's body so that he was laying length way on bed, versus the haphazard way his legs were strewn over the edge. Eying the figure, the Prince sighed and dug the sheets from beneath his slumbering figure and pulled them over his body. Clearing his throat, he nodded briefly to Gaius before he left the room without glancing back.

Gaius just watched him bemusedly, shaking his head at the Prince's back. Closing his large tome, he carefully put the pieces of the ritual back in their place before he checked in on his younger sister. Taking care with the steps, he paused in the doorway. He took note of the smoothness of her face, free from the pinches of stress and worry that she had so long carried with her. Seeing that she had been well cared for, he returned to Merlin's side, taking a seat on his bench he had pulled over and just let himself observe the boy.

His eyes roamed over the sheets pulled up to his chest, which was rising and falling with each reassuring breath. He drank in the sight of his mussed up hair, indicative of the young and carefree, or in this case his lack of getting ready properly due to his injuries. He observed the smooth skin around his eyes, that weren't crinkled with pain, or sorrow. _Oh, my boy._

Gaius allowed himself to pat the boy on his partially uncovered hand before he pulled himself up and returned to his duties despite the fact that he longed to stay within his own chambers and be with the only family he had left; the only family that he had recently been reunited with but he knew that the King would never allow it. On his way to see to the members of Court, he instructed a runner to relay a message to Morgana's maidservant before he continued on his way.

-mo(-,-)om-

Merlin's eyes fluttered open as his brain registered a delicious aroma wafting through the large chamber. Blinking a few times to clear the haze from his vision, he turned his head to find his Mother sitting at Gaius' table setting the table with food from a tray. A lazy smile wormed its way on his face, he shifted his limbs and ignored the dull sparks of pain that made themselves known at that exact moment.

Hunith looked up at the sounds of rustling sheets, a smile blossomed on her face at the sight of her son stretching like a cat on his bed; his hair completely mussed from his sleep, face slightly pink from resting on the pillow. Straightening, she waited for him to finish, before she walked around the table and approached his bedside.

"Are you hungry?"

He opened his mouth to respond but his stomach beat him to it, gurgling unhappily, he flushed in embarrassment. His Mother merely smiled and held out her hand to him which he paused to look at before he allowed her to help him up and steady him when he swayed at the sudden drop in blood pressure. Guiding him over with a light hand to his back, Merlin fought against the urge to shudder at the contact. He knew he shouldn't be feeling that way but he couldn't help his body's natural reaction to touch. Settling into the seat, he picked up his spoon and began to eat, slowly and with care.

When he didn't hear sounds mirroring his actions, he looked up to find his Mother observing him, her own food untouched. His shoulders rounded in response, his head lowering slightly in an attempt to make himself smaller. Hunith seemed to realize what her staring was doing and made an effort to break the eye contact and focus on her own meal. After a few moments of Merlin hearing his Mother start her own meal, he slowly started again forcing himself to go slowly even though his stomach demanded more and faster.

They ate in silence, the only sounds of their spoons chinking against the sides of the bowls from time to time. Merlin tore some bread up and used it to sop up the last remnants of his soup, attempting to get every last drop; even licking his fingers once that was complete. He snagged a chunk of cheese, munching on that as he avoided thinking about how his Mother was currently sitting across from him, something he never would have thought possible.

He almost reached for something else when he realized that there was nothing else. His fingers danced nervously across the table as they sought for something to do, his Mother took the opportunity to break the silence with soft clearing of her throat. He glanced over at her, his fingers stilling.

"How are you feeling?"

Merlin paused, taking the moment to access himself, he felt the slight pulling of his skin where it was still knitting together from various cuts and scrapes, the slight twinges of still fading bruises. _Shouldn't I feel more pain? _He used his hands to pat himself down, as if to reassure himself that he was still in one piece despite the great trauma he recently went through.

"I-I feel fine, um, and you? How are you doing?"

"I don't know if there are words to describe how I am feeling. I am relieved, elated, and afraid all at once."

"Why are you afraid?"

"While I dreamed of this moment, I don't know that I actually thought it was a possibility, to be here, with you. So, I wonder if perhaps this is a dream, or a figment of my imagination. That I might wake and come to find out that this is just a dream. That Gaius didn't find you and that I am still alone."

Her words resonated with the same fears in his own heart, and in that moment he realized just how much it has also affected her; that they were the same._ Lonely._ He didn't like the ache that pooled within his heart, and he didn't want her to feel that as well. Taking a breath, he reached across the table laying his hand on top of hers. She reached up and brought her other hand to rest on their clasped hands and gave it a little squeeze. He was surprised at the little spark of electricity that raced between them and faded to a gentle pulse of comfort.

Tears prickled in her eyes as she gaze across at him, "You used to do that as a child, during the hard nights and especially the colder months."

"I-I did? So you know about my m-?"

"Of course, I am your Mother. You were doing magic almost from the day you were born."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. You used to have such fun levitating things over to you, especially items I was purposely withholding from you. You would giggle when I would catch you and make them zoom all over the house. You also thought you were so sneaking doing it but it was just me ignoring your antics, especially if it got you to laugh and your blue eyes to sparkle. I loved your laugh, and oh how I missed it; how I missed _you_."

Her voice cracked with emotion, and Merlin knew he was feeling it just as much, he had to wait several moments before he could try and respond.

"I had almost given up hope, but I think somewhere I still clung to that childlike need to know that my Mother loved me despite that I was being told to the contrary."

"I _do_ love you Merlin, I do, more than you can possible imagine. I love you more than life itself. There were many hard nights after you were taken that I didn't lament that that I could have done more, I should have. I would have given my own life had I known that this would happen."

"NO! No! You did the right thing, I would rather that I had a few...hard years away from you than all my life growing up alone and knowing that it was my fault that you were gone. I don't think I could have borne it."

"I-I was hoping that once you are healed that you would want to return home with me."

Merlin pulled his hand free from hers and sat there, his mind racing, his body still. Hunith starred at him, hurt at his abrupt departure. _Home? Home? Homehomehomehomehome... Is this really happening? I have a home! I can-but what about Arthur? Gwen? Gaius? The Dragon? Can I really just leave them? But my Mother-!_

"Oh," Merlin responded, his mind too full to be able to complete a cohesive sentence.

"I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have-I-I-"

"No, no. I mean yes, yes I would love to see your-our-home. I just-I also have somethings that I need to take care here too."

"Things? What do you mean?"

Merlin went on to explain what the dragon had told him, he wondered at the start his Mother made when he told her about the dragon. Why wasn't she_ surprised?_ When he finished, he found her beaming at him, with more tears in her eyes.

"What?"

"I am just so proud of you, my son. You have grown into a fine young man and I sorry that I wasn't there to witness it."

Her son ducked his head, relishing the feeling that swept through him at her words of praise. His cheeks were flushed red, giving him a more healthy look. The creaking of a door interrupted their conversation and they both looked over to see Gaius shuffling in, pausing when he found his family at the table, dishes already empty. Smiling softly, he set his things down and sat down next to Merlin.

"Brother, we were just discussing plans for the future."

"I see."

"Cou-could you not move to Camelot, Mother?"

"I am afraid I do not have the coins for that."

Chagrined, Merlin cast his mind about for an alternative when Gaius broke in.

"There's no reason why you can't do both? I understand that you wish to be with your Mother but also fulfill your destiny."

Merlin gapped at the older man, astonished at his knowledge of the situation.

-mo(-,-)om-

Merlin paused, hand resting on the wall, his breathing coming out in small gasps from his short trek. Servants and guards passed by him with a long look, as if trying to place why they knew his face, once they recognized him they gave him a wide berth. Merlin avoided their eyes, instead choosing to focus on his destination. His footsteps echoed as he continued down the path to the dungeons; when he arrived he softly asked to speak to the prisoner of Ulbein.

The guards glanced at each other in confusion. The one on the left spoke, he had light brown hair that curled at the ends which framed mud brown eyes.

"He is not here, he is dead."

Merlin staggered backwards, blood drained from his face, feeling as though he had been punched in the stomach. _Aden is dead? Why? He was innocent, it was Draco, Dead? DEAD?_

Merlin nodded absentmindedly, before he made his way back towards Gaius' chambers, his mind reeling with the news of his old friend's death. His movements were slow and unsteady. Several times he almost sprawled on the ground when his feet would get confused as to whose turn it was.

"Merlin? Merlin, are you OK?"

It was the touch on his arm that brought him up short, he looked down to find a delicate hand resting there and followed the limb up to Gwen's concerned face.

"Hm? Oh, Gwen, I didn't see you."

Gwen's eyes searched Merlin's for the reason for the strange disconnect in his attention. She found no wound. Merlin watched as her lips formed words, but his mind couldn't connect them to any coherent sounds. He just watched her. He watched as she worried her bottom lip, before gesturing him to stay as she hurried off. He watched her retreating figure. _Dead._

The images before him blurred as his eyes became unfocused, reverting to colorful shapes, some of which moved but most stayed where they were. A dull blue broke off from the edge of his vision and came closer, closer, until it filled his entire line of sight.

"_What _are you doing, standing there like a simpleton?"

Through the haze of his vision, he could see a figure standing over him, arms folded. His immediately sight cleared to confirm what his brain had already recognized, it was Aden and he is alive. This revelation didn't jar his body into any sort of action, just the opposite, he remained immoveable.

"Correction, you _are_ a simpleton."

With that barb he moved to brush past him, and that's when Merlin struck. His hand snaked out and caught the servant's sleeve with more strength than one would assume such a frame had. Aden glanced down at his hand, his lips curled with disdain.

"_Don't_ touch me. Let go!"

"You're alive!"

"Of course, I am alive, you idiot, why wouldn't I be?"

"They said you were dead."

"Well obviously I'm not. Now, leave me be."

"I'm sorry."

The servant froze, the apology caught him off guard. His body stiffened, he knew what Merlin meant, having been apologized to before several times. He jerked his arm from the former slave's grasp, spinning back to face him, his eyes blazing.

"_You're sorry?!_ Oh, well that makes it ok then, right?"

"N-no, surely not but I _am,_" Merlin insisted.

"Not as sorry as I am for having met you," Aden hissed, and continued down the hallway, turning several yard before the path continued down to the dungeons, leaving Merlin standing listlessly where he way. The young man stared at the servant's back until he disappeared around the wall, only breaking contact when a call caught his attention.

"Merlin, are you alright?"

"Mmm? Oh, yes, sorry Gaius. I-I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You were out of it early, that's why I retrieved Gaius."

Merlin turned to them, a small smile lifting his lips, "Sorry Gwen, I was just distracted. I had gone to see the servant from Ulbein in the dungeons and was told he was dead."

A hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with dismay at the news, Merlin was quick to reassure her.

"But he isn't, it was just a mistake."

"Oh, that's good."

"I'm sorry for worrying you two."

Gaius just smiled at him, grateful that his nephew wasn't having some sort of relapse, he turned to return to his work when Merlin stopped him.

"Uncle, do you know where Ar-the Prince is?"

The old man's heart soared at the use of the words of familiarity.

"I believe he is going over the guest chambers of Court."

Suppressing a shudder, the boy nodded and thanked them both again before hurrying off.

-mo(-,-)om-

Merlin took a breath, and knocked on the open door, waiting in the hallway for an answer.

"Enter."

Merlin watched in amusement as the Prince distractedly bid him enter, his attention instead focusing on what was in front of him. Walking softly up next to the Prince with hardly a whisper to announce his presence, he was greatly amused when Arthur started slightly.

"What have you go there, _my lord_?"

"MERLIN!"

"Yes, Sire?" He answered, a cheshire smile betraying him.

Arthur's hands scrambled to use the scrolls and scraps of paper to obscure what it was that he had been looking at, hoping that the boy hadn't noticed his movements. He had. Arthur could tell but the way his face dropped, the smile erased from his mouth, his eyes darkening.

"What are you hiding?"

"ME? I am the Prince, I have nothing to hide, nor do I have to answer to you."

Merlin just hummed, as he peered over the Prince's shoulder trying to see what it was he didn't want him to see. Arthur shifted as well, trying to block the view. Merlin frowned, not liking him blocking him, he lunged forward, his hands grasping the Prince's shoulders in an attempt to physically move him. That was a mistake. The Prince reacted from years of training, grabbing Merlin's arm and deftly locking it behind the boy's back, immobilizing him.

Merlin cried out, his knees nearly buckling, Arthur released him immediately as he realized what he had done to an injured man. The young man grinned as he knocked the Prince off balance, and used the momentum to propel himself in direct sight of what it was that Arthur had futilely tried to hide from him. With a sweep of his hand, he froze.

"Merlin-!"

Merlin gaped down at the wood, then up at Arthur, his eyes filled with anguish. Jagged slashes gouged the surface of the table. MINE. MINE. MINE. MINEMINEMINE. M-I-N-E.

DIE. DIE. ARTHUR. MINE. MINE. DIE. MINE. YGRAINE. MINE. MINE. DIE!

As the scrolls settled, Merlin saw that they too had writing on them, most of which he could recognize but there were still other words that were beyond his reading comprehension.

"Oh."

"Merlin, you can't just do that. Here-"

Arthur covered the scars with blank scraps of paper mixed with ones stained with ink. Grasping Merlin's upper arm, he steered the former slave away from the reminder of their ordeal.

"So, uh, did you want something?"

Merlin shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts, "Oh, yeah, um. I came to tell you that I'll be leaving tomorrow."

"Leaving? What do you mean? Why? You cant-!"

"My Mother, she's invited me to come live with her and...well, she's my Mother, Arthur. _My Mother_. I need to. I found her, I finally found her an-and I don't want to let her go, not now."

"But-but my Father gave you a position-! You're my manservant. What am I supposed to do?"

"You mean, like dress yourself? Oh, I can see how you could be concerned," Merlin teased, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Arthur sputtered in protest, unable to come up with a sufficient retort, he resorted to grabbing the boy in a headlock and rubbed his closed fisted knuckles against Merlin's head, ignoring his protests. Merlin's hands tried to break the Prince's hold but his physique was not just for looks, and he found himself at Arthur's mercy. Half a minute of torture later Merlin fell to his knees, finally having been released from Arthur's hold.

Rubbing his head ruefully, Merlin glared up at the unrepentant Prince; climbing to his feet, Merlin paused, struggling to find something to say.

"Um, can we get out of here?"

Arthur held his head up a little higher.

"NO, you don't get to decide when the Prince of Camelot must leave. _I _do."

He paused just long enough to make a point, then looked around, his face slightly green.

"Hmph, _now _we can go."

Merlin just rolled his eyes, and led the way out, pausing to wait for the Prince to precede him and closed the door after. Neither looked at the other as a twin shiver raced down their spines.

"Creepy."

"Agreed," Arthur murmured under his breath.

"Oh, you might be interested to know that the servant that had been thrown into the dungeons was released yesterday."

A cough escaped Merlin's throat, he brought his hand to his mouth and gave another cough just to cover his slip.

"Ah, yes, I did realize that."

"Seriously Merlin, what am I supposed to do? You are _awarded_ a position as _my _manservant by _my Father_ and you just decide to up and leave?"

"Well, I need this time with my Mother. I need to, can't you understand that?"

"I do, and I wish I had the same opportunity."

The former slave winced at the admission, berating himself for his poor choice of words. _Of course he understand, you idiot! Especially now after his ordeal. Insert foot into mouth. _

"Well, that's good, I guess, since I'd hate to have to send the knights out in search of my new wayward manservant. What would the Court say? The Prince can't even keep track of his possessions-"

Merlin's face flushed at his words, such a contrast to his natural pigment that it had Arthur stopping in his tracks, figuratively and physically. He noted the way the young man's hands clenched into fists, and he wondered what caused the change. Quickly reviewing his words several times, he felt like hitting himself over the head. _Possession? Really? You are a royal idiot._

"Ah-Merlin, I didn't mean that..."

Merlin shrugged it off, visibly setting his shoulders and nodded tightly to the Prince.

"I forgot, I need to see my Uncle-Gaius about something. We leave tomorrow, remember that," he reminded Arthur, who nodded dumbly as he watched the boy leave through a side hallway.

-mo(-,-)om-

Merlin opened the door to Gaius' chambers to find his Mother and Uncle sitting at the table, fond smiles lighting their faces as they conversed and remembered good memories. He paused, one hand on the door, not sure he wanted to intrude on their moment. Hunith looked up, the smile growing in size as she caught sight of her son. Gaius turned to see what had grabbed her attention, the smile dropping slightly at the intrusion but upon seeing it was Merlin, it too grew. Feeling slightly better, Merlin returned their smiles with one of his own, his eyes darting between them as if trying to gauge their conversation.

"Ah Merlin, I was hoping to speak with you before we were interrupted."

Cautiously, the nephew approached the table and at next to his Mother, who beamed at him and turned his attention over to the old physician.

"I wanted to warn you, about the after affects of the spell."

He was sad to see the ease in the boy's body harden, as tension seized his limbs.

"There is a possibility that you may...find yourself getting feelings from your bond. Something I hadn't wanted to disclose with Arthur in the room. Those markings that were on each of the pieces of the spell? I translated them, as follows: "The (collar) was"sacrifice", "absolute" (pendant), "supple, mold" (bracelet), "conduit" (fragments)."

Merlin took a moment to take in the information, but the word _bond_ seemed to override all other thoughts.

"My bond? What bond? They're both dead. I thought it was over?!" Merlin voice raised, bordering on hysteria.

"It is, for the most part. I mean the bond between you and Arthur."

"Me and Arthur? What bond? Do you mean destiny?"

"Destiny may have some part of it but I am referring to the magical bond that may have been created by the spells used to bind the four of you together. You, Arthur, the King, and the servant. Two of the threads of the connections were severed but two still remain. I do not mean to alarm you, it is not for certain that it is there one. From what I have researched about spells of this sort, there is a possibility and there's no guarantee how it will manifest. You should be careful, and pay attention to your magic; your grasp of it is intuitive and you know it well. In fact, I thought I might help you to explore it."

Merlin's head spun at the thought of having a connection to the _prince of Camelot_, send a shiver down his spine. He jerked back as Gaius stood up and went to his collections of books, moving things around. Deep in the recesses of a corner, he pulled out a large tome, brushing some dust off of the cover of the leather bound book.

Merlin blinked when he felt his Mother's light touch on his arm, drawing his attention back as Gaius stood before him the book held out towards his nephew. Automatically the boy reached for the book, the weight settling comfortably into his hands, a light warmth spreading from where he came in direct contact with the book.

One hand raised, fingers running over jeweled cover, Merlin looked up at his Uncle in awe.

"Wha-? Is this a book on _magic_?"

"It is, one I used to study from, and I want you to have it. You _must _keep it secret, keep it safe."

Dumbly, the boy nodded, his hands still caressing the book, pages crinkled slightly under his curious perusing.

"Here, you can stow it in here."

Gaius produced a leather bag and some extra cloth. He took the book back, wrapping it securely in the cloth before putting it at the bottom of the bag. Merlin's eyes followed the progress of his new possessions, his eyes growing slightly misty at the thought that he now had a book, _a book_, to his name in addition to the clothes he received from the Prince.

"Thank you, Uncle."

"You are most welcome, my boy."

_My boy, he's said that to me before. That time he thought I was asleep, he said that to me._ Merlin thought back to that night, remembering his confusion and slight fear at the words, uncertain as to what he meant by it. Shaking his head lightly at his own paranoia, he refocused on his Mother who was watching him with a slight smile on her face. Merlin felt his face heat at her attention, and forced a smile on his face. _What is wrong with me? This is my Mother...my Mother!_

With a shake of his head, he allowed himself to relax, a genuine smile took it's place.

"Oh! I nearly forgot, you had some visitors while you were out. Gwen, and that lovely Lady...what was her name? Oh, yes, the Lady Morgana. They were disappointed to find you weren't in. I suggested they return after dinner."

Merlin blinked at the news. _I wonder what they wanted. _Shrugging the thought off, he settled back onto his bed, his eyes drooping against his will. His mind drifted, his body settling more limply against the bedding, he felt hands guiding him down until his head rested against the soft pillow. Faintly, he felt long slender fingers brush his unruly bangs away from his closed eyes then trailed down from his temple to cup his cheek. He felt the warmth last there for awhile until he couldn't tell the difference between the warmth on his cheek and warmth that enveloped him as he slipped into a deeper slumber.

"Is it true?!"

"Where is he? Is he here? Did he leave already?"

"No, couldn't have, Hunith is still here."

Merlin didn't know how long he was asleep for when he first heard the female voices near his bed. _Is that Gwen and the Lady Morgana? What are they doing here? Oh, Mother said they were coming back. _

Merlin made a conscious effort to clear his mind and come back to reality. His mind wasn't clearing as quickly as he would have liked, he could feel his fingers and made them twitch as he focused on them. Slowly he focused on a different part of himself and made them react. Fingers twitched, Toes wiggled, arms and legs shifted causing the sheets to rustle.

Finally, he broke through the haze, his eyes flickered open to a room lit by candles, squinting he could see that it was fairly low on wick. _It's pretty late. Why would they think I would have left at night? _

"Merlin?"

Inhaling deeply, Merlin yawned as he turned his head to find Gwen standing next to the bed, her hands clasped to her chest. Blinking to clear the last fuzziness from his vision, he smiled shyly at her. His hands tugged at the edge of his sheets until they completely covered his body up to his chin.

"Is it true Merlin? That you're leaving?"

This time it was Morgana who spoke, her brow furrowed her lips slightly parted as she waited for his reply. Her face seemed paler than normal, and Merlin had to wonder if she was feeling ill; and if that being the case, she should be resting and not traipsing about the castle for someone like him.

"Yes, it's true."

Both expressions on the women's face fell, their eyes falling to either the floor or the bed where his feet lay. Gwen worried her bottom lip, as she seemed to fight the urge to say something in response while Morgana swallowed past a large lump in her throat.

"My Mother has invited me to return back home with her, and I accepted. She's my Mother, how can I not?"

"We understand," Morgana assured him, a weak smile on her face.

"So, you leave tomorrow, right?"

"That's right, Gwen. Tomorrow after the Queen leaves."

"Oh, well, I guess we will let you get your rest. You will say goodbye before you leave, right?"

"Uh, s-sure."

Both women lingered for another few moments until Merlin started to shift uncomfortably, then they left.

"That was strange."

"What was Merlin?"

Merlin angled his head so that he could see his Mother, who was standing off in the corner while the women were there.

"I just wonder why they were so worried."

Merlin didn't like that his question seemed to upset his Mother, the way her brow crinkled, and her lips turned down in sadness.

"Oh Merlin, it is simple. They care for you."

Hunith watched as her son seemed to try and process this news. Her heart twinges as her thoughts returned again to their circumstances. _He doesn't understand why they would care for him. I have heard of his own efforts to protect those he has come to care for but he doesn't seem to think that they could feel the same. This is all his fault. He took my baby from me and deprived him of the love he should have had. I have to make it up to him. When we get home I will show him all that he has missed._

"Me?" Merlin repeated, his voice soft and so like when he was a child that Hunith had to swallow against the lump in her throat.

"Yes, _you._ I understand that you helped out Gwen on a couple of occasions, yes?"

Merlin nodded.

"Why?"

"Why?"

"Yes, why did you help her?"

"Um, she needed my help, and she was nice to me. I like her."

"You don't think that she might like you also?"

"..."

"You are a likable person, Merlin. Since coming here, I have heard so many wonderful things about you from other servants, Gaius, Gwaine and even the Prince himself!"

Merlin jerked at the mention of Arthur; he turned so that he could more fully see his Mother. Again there were tears in her eyes, and Merlin felt bad that he was causing his Mother so much stress. He settled back against his bed, curling in on himself a little. He started slightly when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder that was turned towards Hunith, but immediately he relaxed as he knew her touch by now. He relished in the feel as she stroked his hair, his eyes fluttered shut as limbs became heavy. He sunk back down into sleep to the loving words of his Mother, whom he had found again.

"I love you, my son."

His reaction was a curve of his lips that lasted through the night.

:::::-m(o,0)m-:::::

Briefly Merlin wondered if he was supposed to be here, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to find Gwen standing at attention yet eyes lowered demurely. In front of her was her mistress, and beside her was the King of Camelot. Arthur stood to his Father's right a polite smile gracing his face as he listened to his Father exchange pleasantries and fond farewells to the recently widowed Queen. To Merlin, it felt like they had been talking for hours as they all stood on the steps of the inner court.

"Merlin."

The former slave jerked at the sound of the semi familiar voice so close to him, his head shot up to find himself facing his Queen, or former Queen, standing a few steps from him. Immediately he dropped his eyes and dipped his head in acknowledgment.

"For the crimes against you, I have prepared a compensation approved by the Court treasury."

A shiver raced down the boy's spine at the mention of the word _crimes_, causing his mind to shift back to not fond memories. He wasn't allowed to wallow there for long as the sound of footsteps brought him to the present where a servant brought a large bag that clanged together.

"I hope you find happiness."

The bag was handed over to a shocked boy, who noticed several moments later that somehow he had missed the fact that there was a path that allowed everyone to see him. The Queen's approach had caused the small group to part to allow her unimpeded access to him. The gap closed behind the Queen as she moved to her procession, and with some more words and fan fare she departed and Merlin barely noticed.

"Stop gaping like a fool before someone does something about it."

Merlin finally looked up from the bag in his hands to the Prince who was now by his side, surrounded by Gwen, Morgana, Gaius and his Mother. Once again he was assaulted by the women who congratulated him, causing his neck to flush at their words; while Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed at multiple intervals. Gwen even presented Merlin with a wrapped package.

"This is from the Lady Morgana, and myself. We thought you might like some new colors."

Unwrapping it, he found several colored neckerchiefs nestled in the bag, there wer some deep blues, steele gray and even a Camelot red one. Reflesively his hand went up to touch the his current neckerchief which his Mother had given him. He loved that his Mother had given her head scarf to him to help him conceal the scars on his neck, and he knew he would treasure it even more than the fine scarves from the girls but he appreciated them all the same.

"We need to get started, Merlin," Hunith gently informed her son.

The boy's eyes shifted from the crestfallen face of the Morgana and Gwen, to the understanding one of his Mother. He avoided Arthur's. He tried to focus on the words that the women spoke to him, as they hugged him individually but he couldn't bring himself to respond as they words of his Mother swirled in his mind from last night.

The clearing of a throat was the thing that broke him from these thoughts, his hand involuntarily released its hold causing the bag to fall from his grasp and spill onto the steps. A blond head appeared in his line of sight as the Prince of Camelot bent down to retrieve his compensation, coming to himself he scrambled to clean up after himself.

"I got it Merlin."

"No, no, let me. I-can-"

"Here you are, now don't spend it all at once." The Prince wagged a finger at the former slave.

The boy just nodded dumbly.

"So-uh-I guess this is goodbye."

"Hm, yes. So, goodbye," Merlin responded, before he turned to try and find where Gaius and his Mother had excused themselves too.

"Wait, so that's it?!"

"Uh, yes."

"What-? HOLD ON!"

Merlin stopped, eyebrows raised at the tension in the Prince's voice.

"That's it? After everything we have gone through and you are just going to throw that away?"

"Throw it away? I don't understand."

Merlin watched as the Prince stalked up to him, hands latching onto his shoulders and gave him a small but firm shake.

"I-You-We-I-uh-just. I don't want to see you go."

"You know I need this? Would you deny me this opportunity?"

"No but still, this kingdom needs you. Oh, alright _I _need you. You are the first of...your kind?"

"My kind? My kind of what?"

"I mean, if I wasn't a Prince, which I am, then I think we could have been...friends."

A smile brightened the boy's face at the Prince's admission.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a dollop head-"

The Prince responded with a short punch to the boy's shoulder. Merlin gaped at him, to which Arthur just grinned back.

"I _am _still a Prince."

"Ah, I had another word in mind, it too started with a "P"."

Arthur tossed his head back, letting loose a laugh deep enough to shake his body. He shook his head at the audacity of the boy who was just a few days ago a slave to a derange King and still managed keep a fighting spirit that he had come to admire and respect. He would miss him when he was gone. That thought sobered him up.

"I will miss your funny-face."

"My face...?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, luckily for you, you won't have to go without seeing my funny face for long."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? I'm not sure when I will be back but I will be back. I need to spend some time with Mother but Camelot is my home too, or at least I hope to be able to call it home."

"What? You let me believe you were leaving for good...!"

"I never said that! I will be here, at your side when you need me. Someone has to keep you out of trouble."

"Trouble...me?! But you-"

"Yes, it was a sacrifice saving you _so_ many times but it was worth it. You will be a great King, someday."

"..."

"And I will be there, serving you, like I was always meant to be."

"Sounds like you have stalker-like tendencies."

"Merlin!"

The sound of Hunith's voice startled the boys' from their bantering. Arthur made the first move, holding his hand out to which Merlin clasped forearms. Arthur pulled him close and hissed in his ear before he released him and left without a backwards glance.

Merlin stared after him, as Hunith approached her brow concerned.

"What did he say?"

"That he would save all my _favorite_ chores for when I return."

Hunith's clear laugh echoed down the walkways as they made their way out of the castle.

A/N: OMFreakingGaius I actually finished this chapter! My deepest apologies for the exceptionally long wait. I have been having eye problems that have made it difficult to stare at a screen long enough to write a few pages at a time. We just have the epilogue left and I hope to have that done well within two weeks time.

If you have any questions regarding loose ends, now is the time to ask about them as this will be the last chance to tie it all up.

Did it make sense? Answer all your questions? Be kind and leave a review? :-D

RS 5/7/13


	25. epilogue

Epilogue

A lone figure stood out against the great expanse of the clear blue, arms hanging loosely at his side, face upturned to greet the sun. The sun smiled down upon him, and whispered something so softly it gently rustled the young man's hair and clothes like fingers combing through a cherished one's head. The smooth planes of the man's face changed, creasing with delight. Another friend joined the conversation, a bird swooped past, her voice echoing on the hilltop. The ebony haired young man angled his head towards the greeting, listening intently. When a lull in the song came, he pursed his own lips and allowed a quick response then waited for a return.

The communication of sorts continued back and forth like playful duelers, until the bird trilled a goodbye and left, angling its direction towards Camelot. The boy watched it go, an ache rising in his chest as he gazed out over the expanse. _It hasn't been that long but it still feels like a great deal of time has passed. Why does it feel like it has been so long? I should be cherishing my time with my Mother and I do, but for the past week my thoughts keep returning to Camelot, to Arthur and Gaius, Gwen and Morgana._

The boy shivered, a sudden cold gripping his body. It was as if someone had thrown a blanket over his head, separating him from the loving warmth of the sun. Turning around, he searched for the reason for the chill but found none. The sun was still shining over him; there was only a slight breeze. No outside reason for his chill. As the realization hit him, he turn his attention inward.

_I haven't felt like this since...I left Camelot. Since THAT night, which means...Arthur, he's in danger. _Spinning around, the boy sprinted down the hilltop, taking care with his steps so as not to stumble and fall down the path. He zigged zagged down the path, dodging rock protrusions, fallen limbs and the occasional wild creature. At the base of the hill, down a few yards he came upon the view of the small house that had puffs of smoke drifting lazily to the sky. As he neared he saw the door open and his Mother step out into the light, a rag in her hand as she wiped her hands clean from the remnants of her baking. There was a small smile on her face, like most of the times he saw her, she was consistently smiling.

Mixing with the sudden anxiety was guilt, and it warred inside him to become the dominant emotion. _I just got her back and now I am just going to leave her? Well, it's not like I can't visit her. Yeah, but will you? So busy being the Prince's manservant, will you be able to spare time for your own Mother? I can't NOT go. He needs me. It is my destiny and I want to go. I want to help him, and see Gwen and Gaius again, and the Lady Morgana._

It was at that point that he realized that he was approaching his Mother at a speed that would result in a collision. He dug his heels into the grass, his feet tangled over himself causing him to tumbled the last few feet. He rolled to a gentle stop at the feet of Hunith, who merely smiled down at him, while reaching down to help extract him from his own feet.

"Mo-mother, I-I-"

"What is it? What's wrong, son?"

"I-I need to go-to return to Camelot."

"Camelot?"

"Yes, it-its Arthur, he needs me. I have to go-now."

"Merlin, it is alright, I understand."

She laid a hand on his cheek, and gently moved it so that he would look her in the eyes. He did so with great reluctance as evident by his averted eyes, whose stared just slightly over her shoulder and to the left.

"I will pack you a meal and your clothing, and you can leave before midday."

"Are you sure? I-I could...um..."

"You will follow what you feel is right. That will lead you to where you need to be with no regrets. You know I love you, now and forever. I always will."

"Thank you Mother, and I you. I will be back, often; I promise you this."

"I know you will."

They walked into their home together, arms around each other. Hunith worked on preparing the food while Merlin set about gathering what he would need for the immediate future. They worked in silence for the most part, with only glances stolen between the two when the other thought they weren't looking. Almost in unison they turned to face each other, Hunith with two plates in hand and Merlin with his leather satchel in one. Gulping back his emotions, Merlin set the bag down next to the door and helped his Mother to set the table for their final meal together.

They ate slowly, savoring the food and the company of the other. Merlin seemed to finish first, although he took care to mop up the last of the soup, his favorite his Mother recalled. Sighing lightly to himself, he glanced up through his bangs to find his Mother had stopped eating before her plate was clear. She was just watching him, a smile on her lips as was normal but there was a difference with this smile. _Sad. I am making her sad. _

Merlin cursed himself, and his destiny. The last thing he wanted was to make his Mother sad, but he had done so still, inadvertently. Unable to voice his thoughts, he reached out and laid his hand onto of hers, covering it completely. She slowly flipped her hand over so that it was palm facing up and used the new leverage to grip his hand tightly. They remained clasped for several long and emotional minutes.

Eventually, Hunith broke the grip, pulling away slowly. She leaned over and let her hand rest against his prominent cheek; which she noted wasn't nearly as much as before now that she was able to feed him properly, he was nearly a normal weight for a boy his height. _Still on the slender side but not nearly as much. I hope he doesn't loose the weight he's put on while in Camelot. Perhaps, I should write to Gaius, he would look after him properly, I'm sure._

She drew back allowing her hand to fall back to the table where she braced herself. Merlin stood up as well, and started to clear the dishes from the table. Hunith tried to protest, but he shushed her.

"Please, I want to."

His Mother silenced her protests at his words, only nodding her acceptance. She watched him, as he moved familiarly through the house, cleaning the plates of food. She watched his his back muscles stilled, his arms stopped moving and he just stood there.

"It's time Merlin. As much as I want you to stay here and be happy with me, I know that you are needed in Camelot with your friends. It is okay, Merlin."

She took several steps forward when she noticed his shoulders start to tremble, her hand coming to rest on his back. At her infantile touch, he spun around and enveloped her in a tight hug. His arms wrapped tightly around her, he squeezed her to his chest, locked in a desperate embrace. Hunith's arms came to envelope her only son, clinging just as tightly to him as he her. Each ignored the slight wetness that soaked into their clothing as a few tears were shed by the other.

When Hunith could feel Merlin's resolve weakening, she broke the embrace, cupped his cheek in her hand and turned her back on him. With a quiet break in her voice, she bid her son a farewell.

Merlin stood there for just a few moments longer, steeling himself against the sudden overflow of emotion; then, he turned and walked to the door, a slight drag in his step. Stooping to pick up his pack, he glanced backwards to where his mother stood, her back straight and proud.

"Farewell Mother, I shall see you again in a fortnight if the Prince will permit it, and every other weekend I can manage."

"I will look forward to your visits. Stay safe, my son. I love you."

"And, I you."

With those words hanging in the air, the young man opened the door and left it open as he stepped in the sun and forward to his destiny, his stomach still roiling impatiently. Taking a deep breath, he glanced back to find his Mother standing in the doorway her hand raised in a wave, he raised his own hand a smile on his face knowing that his Mother was there and would be. Turning back towards his destiny, he faced forward resolutely and focused on putting one step in front of the other.

-m(-,-)m-

Blue eyes danced across the vibrant grassy knolls, watching the shadows cast by the wise tall trees of old, leaves waving him forward in the soft breeze. He breathed in deeply, relaxing at the scent of spring. He walked the well worn path to the main gates, his feet tracing the same path he had taken only a few weeks ago. The soft padding of leather boots echoed close to the lone traveler, immediately his eyes sought out the dirt beneath his feet. As they came closer, Merlin's shoulder rounded, hunching in on themselves. A male voice called out to him.

"Hello! Good afternoon to you, Sir."

Remaining mute, the former slave nodded his head in reply and continued on his path. The other man's feet sounded past him, and Merlin slowly relaxed once he could no longer hear him. After another short period time he came across a band of travelers, this one he supposed was a family as there were two younger person accompanied by two older person, a man and woman. One of the children was a young girl who has hair the color of spun gold.

This time, Merlin glanced up and nodded at the man and woman and briefly made eye contact with the girl, whose face burned crimson as a giggle escaped her lips. He caught a glance of amusement between the woman and her husband at the girl's antics. He could also feel the weight of the girl's eyes on his face as he past by, this constant gaze made his own neck burn. He quickened his steps, and made sure not to glance back.

As more and more travelers passed by the lone young man he grew more comfortable and bold exchanging greetings. As his eyes fell upon the beautiful sight of the white castle, nearly blinding in the bright sunlight he gave an enthusiastic hello to an older man on his way to the outlying villages.

Having been on the road for a few hours, Merlin felt he had time to take a little detour. Settling himself against the trunk of a sturdy tree, he leaned back, his eyes closing on their own as he breathed a sigh of relief. His feet throbbed gratefully at the reprieve. Within a few minutes his head tipped to the side, as his body slumped in boneless relief unaware of the world passing by.

Soft, cold fingers brushed through the bangs of the sleeping former slave causing him to stir slightly; however, it was the whinny of a horse that roused him from his slumber. Jerking from his dreams, he threw out his hand instinctively, which only barely stopped him from toppling over. Blinking blearily his eyes caught sight of a bright red blob next to him. Still bracing himself up on his forearm, he could hear the snickering coming from said blob, accompanied by a decidedly amused nicker from a horse.

"Did you have a good sleep?"

"Ughh..."

Blinking a few more times, Merlin was finally able to make the figure out into a recognizable figure.

"Sir Leon!"

The recently freed slave jerked up to a more dignified position, his neck burning in embarrassment. He stood up and inclined his head towards the amused knight.

"Hello Merlin."

"Oh, no, what time is it?"

"It is getting late, regrettably I can stay no longer. You are coming to the feast, yes?"

"Yes, but don't tell Arthur."

"That is fortunate as the Prince has been rather unbearable as of late. In fact, I have heard I'm on numerous occasion muttering under his breath about certain chores he had been saving for your return."

Merlin grimaced as the knight grinned at his expense.

"Is the feast to start soon?"

"In about two hours time."

"Ah, you should not have wasted time with me, Sir Knight!"

"I could not in good conscious leave you vulnerable to attack just outside the gates of Camelot. Then I would be forced to deal with Arthur myself."

Merlin chuckled, watching as the knight mounted his steed and pivoted around and started off towards the castle with a nod towards the boy. Watching him ride, Merlin gathered his own belongings in hand and shouldered them. A quick glance at the sun revealed he had slept for a lot longer than he had anticipated. _I must have slept for a few hours. How long did Leon stay to guard me?_

Quickening his steps, Merlin followed the same path as the knight, his eyes darting to gauge the sun's position. As it approached the reaches of his line of sight he continued to quicken his steps until he was running run tilt towards then the citadel after he passed through the main gates. He dodged around peasants as they returned to their homes, nodding to the guards who got stuck with the unfortunate task of remaining outside the feast to insure their safety.

Taking the stairs to Gaius' chambers, he pounded his way to the door and burst inside. Gaius spun around, one hand on his heart at the sudden entrance. His face lit upon recognition.

"Merlin!"

"Uncle Gaius, hello. I ...ma...ade...it..," he fumbled at the end as he tried to catch his breath.

"Almost missed it, if you are referring to the feast, in which, Arthur will be pronounced as Crown Prince. Which you still might do if you do not set your things down in your room and accompany me to the feast forthwith."

"Oh, right, sorry Uncle."

"How is your Mother? She is well, I hope?"

"Yes, very well. We moved closer to Camelot, on the outlying villages along with several others from Ealdor, using a portion of the compensation from the Queen."

Merlin did as directed and was back at his Uncle's side in a minute. Together they made their way to the main doors, where they were admitted without incident. The feast had already started, the King standing at the front with Arthur before him. Listening intently to the words that were spoken, the former slave couldn't help the feel of satisfaction that swelled within his breast; a large smile on his face, the tightness that had been prevalent through his journey to Camelot loosened slightly.

His musings were interrupted by thunderous applause of those around him, including Gaius. The newly Crowned Prince of Camelot turned to meet his subjects, head adorned with the circlet of his station, eyes sweeping over the crowd, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He nodded at several of the knights as they came to congratulate him, but his eyes consistently roaming the crowd. He laughed at some remark, almost out of sync with the joke but managed to cover it, as he excused himself to drift further through the room.

"I have to admit, I was surprised to find that they were able to make such a crown to fit your oversized head."

Crown Prince Arthur pivoted on his feel in a well honed moved, his arm sweeping out, wrapping around the thin neck of his servant and pulled it close as his other hand rapt him on the head. Merlin squawked in protest, his hands scrambling for a hold but the Prince was too strong, and he too weak. An instant later he was released, to find that the crowd had not witnessed the Prince's lack of protocol.

"Merlin! I thought you were going to miss it."

"I told you I would be at your side, and so I shall."

"Hopefully not at all hours, I don't think I should be able to bear it."

"Tut, tut, _Sire_, I have heard tales of your increased bad temperament while I was away."

"What? _My _bad temperament? Huhn, _Morgana_ was in more of a twist than _I_."

Merlin opened his mouth to reply but the words died in his throat as glass shattered around them and a shape charged through a glass window. Crashing to the floor before them was a tall imposing figure astride a black horse. An unseen wind caused his black garb to flutter eerily. Screams erupted all around them, as their subject scrambled to flee from before the figure. His horse snorted in agitation, shaking its massive head while it's rider glared down at the knights who immediately surround the Crown Prince, pushing Merlin towards the back. The tension that had faded was back at full force. Merlin's hands twitched, wanting to use his abilities to defend his friend but knew he couldn't in such a public place. He faced the threat from the back of the knights, his back straight, eyes focused, mind reeling.

_By your side, like I always will be._

_A/n: annnnnnnd scene!_ Yup that is it folks, what happens to our heroes? The journey continues in the real Merlin tv series from BBC, I always I invisioned that my series would lead back off into the original, with a few obvious changes but still enough that it could transition somewhat easily to their episodes. (In this case: Episode 9, Excalibur; I figure that the episodes will just be a little out of order with my changes)

Soooooo what did you think? Like it? Hate? Confused by it? I would absolutely adore you if you could leave me a note and let me know about our journey together; and hoped it only got better as it went along.

Thank you all for joining me! It has really been a blast writing it, stretching my writer's wings and soon soaring to my original works once more.

6-11-13 HDS/Rehabilitated Sith


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